


Your Ocean Waves Don't Crash For Me

by oceans4jinyoung



Series: You're Ocean Waves Don't Crash For Me [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Affairs, Angst, Cheating, Graduate School, Infidelity, Jinyoung Being A Sad Asshole and Making Mistakes Cause Oceans, Like really slow, M/M, Mostly in Seoul, Not all relationships are listed, Ocean, Office, Poetry, Slow Burn, Smut, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-06-24 06:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 93,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceans4jinyoung/pseuds/oceans4jinyoung
Summary: Jinyoung has only ever pictured his future with Jaebeom.  But then an American named Mark turns Jinyoung's world upside down and makes him question everything that once seemed so straightforward.  Will he keep his eyes on the horizon or get lost in the undertow of the unknown?





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are four, spoiler free **Spotify playlists** for the four main characters of this story. Feel free to bump these and let me know your favorite songs!
> 
> [Insufferable:Jinyoung](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4EuliLjn9ABhBmRBbeKzad?si=Ux7-CDRUR-uen3t2wvxTdw)  
> [Vivid:Mark](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4cf8zt6deCKJ4yv7GDddPQ?si=HOhxSXXsT0iaSuC7C6VUhw)  
> [Constant:Jaebeom](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0jFgC4ymQS4NcnFM8cwuTo?si=DS8J1wsSSbWEK6-y9vPZcQ)  
> [Guarded:Youngjae](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/06hIfQNYdsR94Q8cXaeC0O?si=xIW3NOuGTTqeqj8BIVEJqg)
> 
> And if you have already read, I have created a **Author's Commentary Edition** that has a lot of behind the scenes info! It is spoiler heavy though so don't read it until after you are done!  
> [You can access it here.](https://docs.google.com/document/d/17Z0ONrOzIK1Y9KLCDEl8mGCgLtzaDwAZa4K5CaJmM_k/edit?usp=sharing)  
> Also, come yell at me on Twitter: [@oceans4jinyoung](https://twitter.com/oceans4jinyoung)  
> 

There are some people who come into your life and it’s like they had always been there. That was how Jaebeom was for Jinyoung. Every memory in his mind was painted with Jaebeom in it. Even if he hadn’t exactly been there, there was always some tie that brought it back to him. The good memories, the bad memories, and every seemingly small moment in between.

Jaebeom had been the one to see him first and he still recounts to friends of theirs that it was love at first sight for him. Jinyoung was the new face at their middle school that year. His dialect leaving him quiet next to the other classmates; a heavily guarded wall up around him. Unsure of anyone who came too close.

Jaebeom was the only one patient enough to chip away at the wall. He had started talking to him, started walking him home, started playing basketball with him at the park after school, started coming over on Saturday afternoons, started sleeping over on Sunday nights, started talking on the phone every night until they couldn’t keep their eyes open anymore. This all kept growing and evolving for years; this consistency that become so critical to their dynamic. Jinyoung’s wall faded as well as his dialect.

But something began to change as they approached graduation. Perhaps it had been changing for a while, but Jinyoung first noticed it when he took his college entrance exams for the first time. He had studied for weeks at a hagwon that his parents could barely afford. He had spent countless hours going over vocabulary, taking practice tests; all with the hope of getting the score he needed for his top pick school.

He remembered sitting in the testing room; two pencils on his desk, perfectly sharpened. Mind turning over the words as he watched the clock near closer and closer to the time. When they finally gave out the test, he felt like a racehorse out of the gate. Going too fast and getting too heated. He rushed through the questions. Not reading fully but being certain of his answers.

He was about halfway done with the first section when he started to feel funny. His head suddenly felt dizzy. His hands began to shake. His breathing got too fast, yet he felt like he was suffocating. His brain couldn’t process the words anymore. All that kept looping through was, “Get out. Get out. Get out.”

He tried to push through. He tried to tell himself there was no reason to feel this way. He tried to breathe. But the feelings wouldn’t go away. If anything, they kept intensifying. Feeding themselves in an endless loop.

He dropped his pencil and got up, running out the door. And he kept running. So hard and fast as if he was trying to catch up with his thoughts but he couldn’t. He didn’t know where to go or what to do. But quicker than he thought, he was on his knees and Jaebeom was opening his front door.

His friend’s face shattered at the sight. Jaebeom sunk down, wrapping his arms around Jinyoung and holding him tightly.

Jinyoung tried to speak. Everything pouring out of him at once. “I don’t know what happened. Everything was fine and then it wasn’t and I couldn’t breathe and I don’t-“ Suddenly tears were falling and he couldn’t stop them.

Jaebeom rubbed his palm against his back, “It’s okay,” he hushed him. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

Jaebeom helped Jinyoung to his room and laid him down on the bed. He pulled up his desk chair, watching until Jinyoung’s breathing slowed and he was soothed to sleep. When Jinyoung woke up, hours later, Jaebeom was reading a book under the light from his desk.

“I’m so sorry,” Jinyoung sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t underst-“

“It was a panic attack,” Jaebeom said simply. “My mom used to get them after my grandmother died.”

“What?” Jinyoung didn’t look at him. “That’s not possible. I have nev-“

“It’s okay,” Jaebeom got up and sat down next to him. “It’s not uncommon. You are stressed.”

Jinyoung thought hard. He started thinking about the test again. He hung his head. “My parents are gonna kill me,” he sighed. “That test is over 200,000 won.”

Jaebeom shook his head. “I called your mom,” he said. “I told her it went fine. That you felt good about it but needed to rest.”

Jinyoung looked up at him. His eyes questioning everything.

Jaebeom took a deep breath. “I booked you another test time next weekend. I’m gonna pay for it.”

Jinyoung felt his neck flush. “No,” he said pointedly. “You can’t. You worked all summer for your money-”

“Stop,” Jaebeom put a hand on his knee. “Just let me help.”

They looked at each other awhile. Jinyoung’s eyes questioning and Jaebeom’s eyes sure. Jinyoung couldn’t fully understand his motives. Yes, they were best friends, but it didn’t seem to warrant the amount of care Jaebeom was giving him. After Jaebeom’s eyes refused to falter, Jinyoung nodded.

The rest of the night was a mix of eating Jaebeom’s mom’s leftovers and rewatching their favorite cartoons from middle school. Jinyoung laughed like he hadn’t ever done so before. His sun the brightest right after a storm.

A week later, Jinyoung retook the test, getting a near perfect score, and Jaebeom waited outside the whole time. Just in case.

It was only a few months later. They sat cross-legged on the floor of Jaebeom’s bedroom. Their knees brushing together as they stared intently into each other’s eyes.

“You first,” Jinyoung voice trembled slightly. His skin buzzed all over.

“No,” Jaebeom shook his head, smiling even though he was visibly nervous as well. “We’ll open them together.”

Jinyoung looked down into his hands where his letter felt heavy. “But what if one of us gets in and the other doesn’t.”

Jaebeom looked to his own letter. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Jinyoung licked his lips. “Let’s get this over with.” His heart raced in his chest as he flipped his letter in his hands.

“On the count of three,” Jaebeom poised his fingers against the seal of his envelope. “One, two… three.”

The ripping and crunching of paper was loud in Jinyoung’s ears as he raced to take out the letter. He unfolded it hastily and let his eyes scan.

_Park Jinyoung. It is our pleasure to inform you that…_

His face fell. “I got in,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

He looked up into Jaebeom’s face and was met with the most radiant smile he had ever seen. “So did I,” he said, stunned.

They jumped to their feet, jumping up and down and screaming at the top of their lungs. “We did it!” Jinyoung yelled. He held his hands up for high fives.

Jaebeom screamed loud and clasped his hands against Jinyoung’s and intertwining their fingers without thinking. He pulled Jinyoung closer to him until their chests brushed together. Jinyoung barely had time to blink before Jaebeom’s face was close to his and he was gingerly pressing his lips against his. Jinyoung felt all of his pent-up energy falling away. They pulled away after just a moment, silent. Jaebeom’s eyes were wide. “Jinyoung,” his voice breathless.

The door of Jaebeom’s bedroom opened quickly. They pulled apart instinctively.

“What are you guys screaming about?” Jaebeom’s mom stood in the doorway, a laundry basket on her hip.

“Mrs. Im,” Jinyoung ran for her. “We both got in. To our schools.”

She gasped, dropping the basket onto the floor. Her face pure shock but transitioning quickly to tears. “Come here,” she opened her arms and took Jinyoung in before he could decide. “You boys did it,” she said with wet, happy eyes. “You did it together.”

Jinyoung looked over to Jaebeom who was smiling radiantly still. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“Well don’t just stand there!” Jaebeom’s mother yelled toward her son. “Get in here!”

As the weeks followed, Jaebeom never brought up the kiss. Jinyoung didn’t know how to take it so he just let it go. Before they knew it, it was high school graduation. They were off to separate schools. Jinyoung was going to be studying writing and literature at one school while Jaebeom studied accounting across town at another. They were sitting on the basketball court they used to frequent, throwing back beers that Jinyoung’s sister had bought him. Laughing about all the stupid things they used to do until there were tears in their eyes.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Jaebeom almost whispered as they lay on their backs, looking up at the stars. A silence enveloped them. The small hum of distant cars and the buzz of the streetlights turning to white noise that made every word they spoke sound clear and crisp in the night air.

Jinyoung smiled, his eyes heavy. “I’ll only be a train ride away.”

Jaebeom shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s not the same.”

“Well, we’ll make it the same,” Jinyoung said. “I’m not going to lose you. You’re the most important person in my life.”

Jaebeom turned towards him, “You mean that?”

Jinyoung nodded, “Of course.”

Jaebeom sat up and Jinyoung looked up into his face. His eyes were darting in thought. “Jinyoung,” he said carefully. “When we opened our letters…”

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung sat up quickly. “You were excited. It was a big moment. You don’t have to-“

“Yes, I do,” Jaebeom stopped him. He shifted himself so that he was sitting cross-legged, facing Jinyoung. He took a deep breath. “When we met and got to know each other, best friend was the only term I knew for what we had.”

Jinyoung felt his face heating.

“But as we grew up together, I began to realize that my feelings for you surpass what that term could ever mean.” He looked up into Jinyoung’s eyes, trying to gauge his reaction. “Now I know you may not think of me like that. And if you don’t, I can live with that. I can live with being just your best friend until we are old and grey.”

Jaebeom paused, taking another deep breath. A rush of nerves running over his features. “But if there is any part of you that feels the same,” his voice trailed off. “Well then, I think we should …maybe try to see what could happen there.”

Jinyoung was taken aback. He hadn’t expected it. His thoughts were flat lining and he was trying to restart them. He was staring into Jaebeom’s eyes. He knew when he was serious and he was. He knew when he was nervous and he was. But Jinyoung’s mind began combing through memories at lightning speed. Remembering how Jaebeom had cared for him, more than a best friend should. Remembering how he prioritized him. How he listened to him. How he validated him. And it was like all those puzzles pieces were coming together.

“Jaebeom,” he finally said. “I know you. Down to your core. I know how you tick. I know how you prioritize everyone in your life above yourself. I know how you would do anything for the person you loved.” He paused. “And I would be an idiot if I let go of that opportunity.”

Jaebeom’s eyes were questioning but patient.

“I agree,” Jinyoung finally said. “I want to see what could happen.”

The corners of Jaebeom’s mouth pulled up. He blinked. “Really?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Yeah. Really.”

Jaebeom stood up, rushing forward and picking Jinyoung up. He swung him around, laughing. He lowered him down till they were standing nose to nose. “Can I…” he let the question hang in the air.

Jinyoung laughed, “Oh, come here.” He swiftly put their lips together. Starting strong and then softening. They pulled away.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re happy,” Jaebeom said, breathlessly. “I promise.”

“There was never a doubt in my mind,” Jinyoung smiled before leaning in to kiss him again.

University was a flurry of subway rides on the weekends, cuddling close on their twin sized dorm beds, and video chatting into the wee hours of the morning. Jinyoung was there to quiz Jaebeom the night before his big finance exams while Jaebeom was there when Jinyoung kept himself up late at night with panic attacks.

When a lease opened up in the apartments next to the literature department, Jinyoung jumped at the opportunity. Jaebeom helped him move in. He remembered unlocking the door for the first time only to be greeted with a wave of energy.

“Oh hello!” an unfamiliar boy said from his place on the couch. His smile a mile wide. “You must be my new roommate.”

Jinyoung nodded, “I am.” He set the box down on the kitchen counter. “I’m Park Jinyoung,” he said with a slight bow.

“Choi Youngjae,” the boy sing-songed as he stood up to greet him. “What department are you in?”

“Literature,” he looked around the apartment. He saw posters on the walls, dilapidated furniture surrounding a comically small television, and a small piano in the corner. He pointed to it, “I’m guessing music?”

Youngjae made a series of bell sounds, “We have a winner.”

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom opened the door, dropping a box alongside Jinyoung’s. “Hey, we have to get this done quick so I can move the car. The parking attendant down there is a real asshole.”

“Oh,” Youngjae made a small noise across the living room. Both of the boys shifted their attention to him. He blinked and shifted his weight between his feet.

“My apologies,” Jaebeom rushed to explain, stepping closer to Youngjae. “I’m Jaebeom. I’m Jinyoung’s boyfriend. You must be his new roommate.” He smiled, turning on his charm like a light switch.

Youngjae blinked three more times. “Yes,” he said. “I am.”

“Youngjae,” Jinyoung blurted out, trying to fill the silence. “He’s Choi Youngjae. He studies music.”

Jaebeom nodded in realization. “Well maybe you’ll have to give us a private performance sometime.”

Youngjae laughed. “Oh,” his laugh raised into octaves unknown. “Well. Of course, I could do that. You know. When you are visiting.”

“Alright,” Jaebeom nodded. He turned back to Jinyoung, pointing a thumb towards the door. “Uh. The rest of the boxes. We should probably get them.”

“Yes,” Jinyoung agreed and they both moved back out the door. When they were down the hall and out of earshot, Jinyoung spoke up. “He thinks you’re hot.”

Jaebeom scoffed. “Hardly,” he said. “He’s just a little awkward is all.”

Jinyoung clicked his tongue. “No, he was downright flustered by you.”

“Stop,” Jaebeom raised his hand in protest. “He’s your roommate. So, you’re the one who is going to have to like him.”

And it turned out, Jinyoung really did like Youngjae. The boy was endlessly soft yet firmly self-assured. A fountain of energy and joy. Someone who could push at Jinyoung’s buttons while never making him mad. They spent nearly all of their free time together. Venting about their programs, eating way too much delivery, having drunken karaoke sessions, and watching the most melodramatic dramas they could find. Jinyoung was there to pick up the pieces when Youngjae got his heart trampled by his first love. The roommates were best friends.

It was just before graduation when Jinyoung found out that he had gotten accepted into the master program for literature. Youngjae was accepted into the Ph.D. program for music. They realized they had to extend their lease.

After graduation, Jaebeom got recruited by an accounting firm in Gangnam and found an apartment nearby. The commute between Jinyoung and him got shorter and their relationship grew increasingly serious. There were fewer nights that they would spend apart, riding trains and buses to be closer. Jaebeom even got a car to ease the distance. Eventually, this began to wear on them. As Jinyoung was finishing his first year of graduate school, they decided that, in the fall, they would move in together.

A few weeks before they moved in, they were visiting Jaebeom’s family. After everyone had gone to sleep, Jaebeom roused him. “Come with me,” he whispered.

They walked barefoot to the basketball court in his neighborhood. The same one where Jaebeom had confessed his love four years ago. The summer air was humid and hot. Heat lightning lit up the dark sky.

They danced to the tune Jaebeom was humming. Jinyoung’s head rested against Jaebeom’s shoulder while they swayed together.

“You know how traditional your parents are,” Jaebeom whispered in between hums; his voice soft and relaxing in Jinyoung’s ear as they rocked to and fro.

“Oh, I know,” Jinyoung huffed.

“They told me I couldn’t sign a lease with you unless I planned to marry you.”

Jinyoung laughed aloud. “No way,” he looked to Jaebeom’s face. “What did you say to them?”

Jaebeom’s smile was small along with his voice. “I said ok.”

Jinyoung’s eyebrow furrowed. “Ok?” he questioned. “What do you mean, ok?”

Jaebeom’s hand moved from Jinyoung’s back to hand. “I mean,” he started. “I had plans to marry you from the day I met you. But if they wanted me to make it official, I guess I would have to ask you first.”

“Babe,” Jinyoung felt the sudden race of his heart. His world moved in slow motion as Jaebeom knelt down on one knee.

“Say that you’ll marry me.”

Jinyoung held in a breath. He looked at Jaebeom. Seeing in him the boy he’d grown up alongside. Seeing the one who had always been there. Seeing the person that felt like home. He nodded. His throat tight and his smile widening. “I’ll marry you,” he said softly. “Now come here.” He rushed to throw his arms around Jaebeom and pull him in. “Oh my god. I hate you so much.”

“Just wait until you live with me,” Jaebeom huffed and Jinyoung could hear in his voice that he was just as excited.


	2. Shore

Fall. Another school year. Another undergraduate American Literature class for Jinyoung to assist in. He didn’t mind the job. After all, it was easy money for a graduate student. But that being said, he rarely liked the students. So the first day of class shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him.

“I hope you all prepared for your first day and read your required reading?” the professor smiled into the sea of students. “Part one of The Sound and the Fury by Mr. William Faulkner.”

Jinyoung sat in the corner, surveying the blank faces with a sigh. Wondering why he couldn’t TA an upper level class instead of these interdisciplinary students who were just trying to slide by with minimal effort.

“So,” the professor looked out, hopeful. “Who would like to tell me what Benjy said Caddy smelled like?”

The faces broke eye contact, looking at their watches and their notes. That monotonous sea parting until Jinyoung’s eyes were falling on a blonde boy in the third row. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was leaned back in his chair. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem intimidated by the professor. Instead, his face seemed to drift between extremes. A certain sureness mixed with unsureness in his bright eyes. And something about it made it hard for Jinyoung to look away.

When he did manage to pull his eyes away, the professor was looking back at him. And he watched the man’s eyes follow the trail of where Jinyoung’s had been lingering. “You,” the professor motioned towards the blonde boy. “Let’s go with you, Mr….?” his voice trailed off in question.

“Tuan,” the boy said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was assertive. “Mark Tuan.”

“Mr. Tuan,” the professor leaned forward. “What did Caddy smell like to Benjy?”

Mark was silent for a long moment, his mouth small. He took a long breath before answering. “Caddy smelled like she needed another writing credit to graduate.”

\---

“And then the class erupted in laughter and this tall boy next to him high fived him and it was like something out of a bad high school movie!” Jinyoung recounted with his head against Jaebeom’s shoulder as they watched some variety show with the volume low.

“So disrespectful,” Jaebeom scoffed.

“Like does he seriously think he’s funny?” Jinyoung felt his face contort with disgust. “God. What a jerk.” 

“I mean. It was clever, I’ll give him that,” Jaebeom said, causing Jinyoung to pull his head away and look at him with judgment in his eyes. “But he’s probably just some moron who will never show his face in class till the final.”

Jinyoung sighed and settled back down, feeling Jaebeom’s hand rub his shoulder tenderly. “I sure hope so,” he said. “I can’t wait to tear apart his essays.”

“You’re so tough.” Jaebeom laughed. “I’m glad you were never my TA.”

“Well, you, of course, would have gotten special treatment,” Jinyoung offered.

Jinyoung felt his fiancé’s hand moving from his shoulder to his waist, pulling him into his lap. 

“Oh yeah?” he murmured into Jinyoung’s ear. “What’s the special treatment?”

Jinyoung smirked and turned to lace his hands behind Jaebeom’s neck. He leaned in kissing him and pulling away just to hover over, teasingly. He could feel Jaebeom leaning into him, trying to chase his lips. “Turn off the TV,” Jinyoung murmured into the space between them, “and I’ll show you.”

Jaebeom wordlessly grabbed the remote and turned the television off, scooping Jinyoung up and wrapping his legs around his middle, toting him towards the bedroom. “Professor Park,” he crooned as he threw Jinyoung down on the bed, crawling over him before sinking down to kiss him.

“Take off your shirt,” Jinyoung whispered between kisses.

Jaebeom leaned up, pulling his shirt over his head and casting it aside. He delved back down, kissing Jinyoung’s neck behind his ear and trailing downwards. When he got to the collar of his shirt, his hands started trailing up his sides, working the fabric up and over his head.

Jinyoung complied before grabbing at Jaebeom’s sides and pulling him down onto him, needing to feel the brush of their chests as they kissed. Jinyoung flipped them, straddling Jaebeom. He ran his hands over his skin until they rested against his waistband, hearing Jaebeom give an impatient whine in response.

Jinyoung worked a hand over his clothing, feeling how hard he was getting and smirking to himself. Relishing in the way he had mapped every inch of Jaebeom’s skin. Knowing that he knew every button and exactly how to press it. And there was something so welcoming about it, even after all this time.

He climbed off the edge of the bed, reaching for the ends of Jaebeom’s pants and pulling at them. Jaebeom giggling and wiggling them down his hips before they fell to the floor.

Jinyoung looked him over. Knowing that he had seen him grow from a boy to man. Remembering the way his chest had been too wide and his jaw too square. But now he’d grown into himself, radiating a confidence that Jinyoung never understood the origin of. A confidence that wasn’t born from his good looks or even his success in his career. But from somewhere more modest. Something that just came naturally to him. A consistency and security that permeated everything about him, making everyone feel safe in his presence.

“Professor,” Jaebeom huffed, desperate. “Please.”

Jinyoung smiled as he climbed back over him. Steadily watching Jaebeom’s face as his hand began to fist over him. Slowly building a rhythm. And Jaebeom reached up, pulling him down by the nape of his neck and kissing, groaning into his mouth.

Jinyoung broke away, moving downward and feeling Jaebeom’s eyes stare transfixed. He took him in his mouth, listening to the whimper falling from his open mouth. He worked his lips over him, letting the mixture of saliva and precum ease the slide and feeling Jaebeom’s thighs tremble with every motion. Knowing without even looking up how Jaebeom’s eyes were watching him. Always watching him. Jinyoung pulled off, not bothering to wipe at his messy chin. And he started fisting over Jaebeom again, looking up at him. “I better see you at office hours,” he purred through a rough throat.

Jaebeom’s eyebrows creased together. Eyes losing focus. “Fuck. Yes. Please,” he gulped. “Just don’t stop.”

Jinyoung smiled, returning his mouth around him and working up and down. Increasing the rhythm with every motion.

He felt as Jaebeom’s body stiffened more and more under him, until his hands were delving into Jinyoung’s hair. “Ah, fuck,” he whimpered, letting the expletives fall freely from his mouth. And all at once his muscles tensed, releasing into Jinyoung’s mouth.

Jinyoung pulled off of him, swallowing hard as he snaked his way back up to lay on Jaebeom’s heaving chest. He leaned up, kissing his fiance’s face as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck, babe,” Jaebeom panted. “Your students don’t know how good they have it.”

Jinyoung let out a huff of laughter, “And for your sake, you better hope they never do.”

\---

“God. It feels like we haven’t seen each other in years,” Youngjae whined around a full mouth of rice.

“Youngjae. It’s been two weeks,” Jinyoung reminded him over their lunch.

“This whole living with Jaebeom over me really sucks,” he cried. “I mean good for you two getting engaged and living in domestic bliss and all, but did you ever stop to think about me and my single-as-fuck ass?”

Jinyoung sighed. “It’s not my fault you are happier locking yourself in the music buildings’ practice rooms than going on all the blind dates I try setting you up on with the guys in the Literature department.”

Youngjae swallowed his food and scoffed, “Those guys? Tragic little flower boys who are too busy fixing their hair and writing their poetry.”

And Jinyoung tried to glare but he couldn’t keep the smirk off his face.

“Plus,” Youngjae noted. “If I marry some writer or lit professor, who is going to be the breadwinner? Music doctorates aren’t exactly known for their paychecks.”

“So what you’re trying to say is that you need a sugar daddy?” Jinyoung asked, sarcasm biting through. “I’ll make sure to invite you to Jaebeom’s next company dinner.”

“Hey!” Youngjae scooped another mouthful of food. “That’s not a bad idea!” He looked over at his phone. “Oh fuck,” he exclaimed, rushing to swallow.

“What?”

Youngjae dropped his shoulders, “I forgot I have a private lesson today. I’m so sorry.”

Jinyoung waved his hand. “It’s fine,” he assured. “I should probably be heading back to campus too. Thursdays are office hours this semester.”

“Right,” Youngjae huffed. “Park Jinyoung. Shaping the brains of the next generation.”

“Bold to assume they have brains,” he said. “Come on. Let’s wrap this up. We can make time for coffee this weekend.”

“Fine,” Youngjae started putting their bowls together. “As long as you don’t try and set me up any more Salinger fanboys.”

\---

Jinyoung sat in his office, turned away from his messy desk towards the floor to ceiling window. The view overlooked the campus lawn, busy with bustling undergrads, making their way between buildings in Seoul’s September humidity. And as he watched them, he tried to remember what that felt like. Being eighteen, nineteen. So refreshingly independent for the first time and yet unburdened by the obligations of a fully adult existence. And though it had only been a year since he graduated and started his master’s program, that feeling felt more than just foreign to him. It felt like a different plane of existence. And that didn’t sit well with him.

A knock at his door tore Jinyoung away from his thoughts. He looked back, seeing fingers laced around the trucks of a skateboard. His eyes worked their way up a long, svelte figure finally reaching an open face and blonde hair and bright eyes. He felt a race of heat against his neck before his mind spun to remember him. The kid from class. The jerk.

“Park teacher?” he muttered; his wide eyes cautious.

“Mmm,” Jinyoung nodded, crossing his arms against his chest. Putting up an immediate defense. “What can I help you with?”

The boy blinked, seemingly dazed under Jinyoung’s stare. “Uh,” he struggled. “I came for office hours.”

At first, Jinyoung was taken aback. Because students rarely utilized office hours this early in the semester. But instead of letting it show, he buried that surprise under layers of stoicism. 

And the boy seemed to notice, if the way he shrank in the doorway was any indication.

“Have a seat,” Jinyoung said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. He watched the boy sit, moving slowly and hesitantly in front of him.

“Remind me your name again?” Jinyoung asked, feeling the memory of it lingering on his tongue.

“Mark Tuan,” the boy said as he reached down, carefullying opening up his backpack.

“You’re not Korean,” Jinyoung noted out loud. He leaned forward, putting his chin into his hand. “Where are you from? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“America,” Mark said.

Jinyoung smirked. That explained it. Entitled American attitude. “What can I help you with then?”

Mark pulled out two copies of the Sound and the Fury. “Professor really didn’t want to start out nice and slow with us, did he?” he huffed, trying to ease the tension.

Jinyoung looked to the books in Mark’s hands. “If by that you mean the book isn’t Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, then yes.”

Mark pursed his lips. “So,” he started, ignoring Jinyoung’s quip. “I was struggling with reading the Korean version. Since it’s not my native language. So I picked up the English version as well. Do you think the professor will mind if I reference it?”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “You know you will be responsible for writing your essays in Korean, right?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “I just want to make sure I am understanding fully. Which is why I am here as well.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “I hope you can be sympathetic to that.” 

Jinyoung felt the heat rise against his neck. The words too far forward on his tongue to be stuffed back. “Well, good thing you don’t need my sympathy,” he hissed. “You just need another writing credit to graduate.”

Mark froze, looking down to the desk and sighing. “I’m sorry,” he said, firmly. “My comment the other day was out of line. I hadn’t gotten the English version yet and I was caught off guard by the question.”

Jinyoung looked at him. Noticing too vividly how his high cheekbones reflected the fluorescent light of the office. How the look in his eyes was open and earnest and bright despite Jinyoung’s attempt to dim him. And though he had felt angry heat rage through him only moments ago, something about the boy’s serene demeanor changed that heat into something different. Something unfamiliar.

Jinyoung sighed, feeling himself surrender without fully condoning it. Because there was still a part of him that told him to be mad, to be rude. But his mouth spoke before those thoughts could catch up. “I’ll expect you to be more respectful to him in the future,” he conceded, his voice significantly softer, almost tired. “This isn’t America. We don’t talk down to our elders.”

Mark nodded, the shadow cast by his cheek dancing. “Of course,” he said. “My apologies again.”

And Jinyoung didn’t know how to explain the way the boy had just quieted everything in him down to nothing. But he stopped himself from ruminating on it anymore, instead reaching for his own copy of the book in his desk drawer. “Now then,” he breathed. “Let’s jump in to talking about unreliable narrators.”

\---

“How was your day?” Jaebeom asked that night as he pulled at the tie around his neck, casting it off towards a chair in the corner.

Jinyoung was sitting in bed, noisily slurping the broth of his cup ramen while going over his notes for a seminar he was in. “Fine,” he shrugged, not looking up. “Had lunch with Youngjae. There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

Jaebeom smiled. “Thank you,” he began unbuttoning his work shirt, disappearing into the closet. “How’s he doing?” he called.

“He resents you stealing his roommate.”

Jaebeom popped his head out around the doorway, “I am the better cuddler.”

“Arguable,” Jinyoung noted.

“You had office hours too, right?” Jaebeom went back to the closet.

Jinyoung paused. Something in his chest immediately stirring. Something he couldn’t pinpoint. He furrowed his brows. “Yeah,” he said.

“Anyone show up?” Jaebeom called.

Jinyoung felt that feeling constrict around his chest, tight like a pepper flake had gone down the wrong pipe. He coughed. “No,” he forced out. “No one today.”

Jaebeom emerged from the closet in pajama pants that Jinyoung had bought him two Christmases ago. “Don’t worry,” he said, sitting beside his fiancé and petting a hand down his neck. “They’ll need you soon enough.”

Jinyoung looked up into his eyes, feeling a smile break against his lips. “Thanks, babe,” he leaned forward, kissing him quickly before hitting his leg. “Now, go eat something.”

\---

Jinyoung truly thought Mark coming to his first office hours was an anomaly. That Mark would flake out soon enough and resign himself to getting a C+ in the class. He did not expect to look across his office on Thursday afternoon and see a hand laced around skateboard trucks again. Nor Mark’s bright eyes when his gaze snaked up. Something about them eliciting that same instant calm as they had last time.

Jinyoung took a quick breath. “Welcome back,” he pasted a fake smile across his face. “Have a seat.”

Mark sat down, taking out his two books. “Thanks for the help last week,” he smiled. “It really helped with the quiz we had.”

Jinyoung shrugged. “It’s my second time TAing for this class. I know what the professor looks for now.”

“I was hoping we could go over my quiz and see what I didn’t get?”

Jinyoung nodded. “Okay. Let’s see here,” he found the pile of quizzes in his desk drawer, laying them on his desk and starting to sort through. “What was your last name again?”

“Tuan,” Mark spoke up, leaning forward to look over the pile.

“Right,” Jinyoung nodded. “From America.” He looked up as he sorted. “What brought you to Korea?” 

Mark’s face blanked and he took a moment to think. “Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I guess I was just looking for something different. Something new.”

“Mmm,” Jinyoung hummed. “How have you liked it?”

Mark nodded. “Clean. Safe. Good food,” he smiled. “Nice people.”

Jinyoung kept a straight face, “Before you met me, right?”

“No,” Mark replied, simply. “You included.”

Jinyoung felt a momentary warmth roll over him. “Here we go,” he pulled out Mark’s quiz, looking it over quickly. “What are you talking about? You got a near perfect score?”

Mark sat up. “I just want to go over what I missed,” he reasoned, his eyes brightening. “Are you surprised that I care?” He reached out to take the paper. 

And Jinyoung saw, for only a fraction of a second, the tremble of his hand. He blinked, pulling himself away. His mind wanted to shout out a yes. “No,” he said, instead. “If you want to be here, I won’t argue it.”

“Good,” Mark nodded. “Because I want to be here.”

There was a moment where it crossed Jinyoung’s mind. A moment when he was locked onto Mark’s stare that was oddly warm and alive and there was the smallest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The boy looked like he was holding onto a joke that was just between them. Layers upon layers of possible suggestions piling up between them and yet Jinyoung couldn’t tell which were real and which weren’t.

Jinyoung inhaled deeply. “Oh yes,” he said, tearing his eyes away to look at the quiz. “This one tripped almost everyone up.”

\---

Jinyoung didn’t sleep much that night. Because when Jaebeom came home that evening, he, again, asked him if anyone came for office hours. And just like last time, Jinyoung said that no one came. He lay awake, with Jaebeom sleeping soundly at his side, wondering why he had lied.

The only answer he could come up with was that Mark’s place in his mind was still too ambiguous for him to speak about openly. Before they had properly met, Jinyoung had pinned him down as a reckless jerk who couldn’t care less about his studies. But after meeting him, Mark had been different than he assumed.

Jinyoung’s mind couldn’t place him and it frustrated him, which is probably why, over the next week, he spent the bulk of the lectures watching Mark. Trying to piece together every small gesture and mannerism in an effort to decipher him. How he watched the professor carefully when he spoke, his cheekbones glinting back in concentration. How he interacted with the tall boy who seemed to be his friend. How he never raised his hand during the discussion. Never answered the questions. Even the ones Jinyoung was sure he knew. The crystal-clear memory of his hand shaking during office hours replaying over and over in Jinyoung’s mind.

All of these thoughts became static waves to Jinyoung, playing on a loop in the background of his consciousness until he was sitting at his desk again on Thursday. And for some indescribable reason, the photos of him and Jaebeom that had once sat on top of his desk were now in the bottom drawer. Photos of their vacation in Jinhae with Jinyoung’s family. Of their high school graduation. And Jinyoung was ever so conscious of their presence in that drawer, feeling himself move around them. He tapped his pen against his notepad, eyes flicking over to the clock before he rubbed them harshly. Wishing the static could stop for just a moment when he heard a knock at his door.

He looked up to see Mark’s shy smile looking back at him. “Hello again.”

Jinyoung nodded. “Come in. Sit down,” he urged. “How was this week for you?” he started. “I mean in class of course.”

Mark huffed a laugh. “It was good,” he leaned his skateboard against the doorframe and opened up his backpack, pulling out his books and a notebook. “I think our talk about the timeline really cleared up a lot of my confusion. I thought this second part was much less painful.”

Jinyoung felt a smile tug at his lips. “Yeah?” he blinked. “You liked Quentin’s narration better?”

“Mmm” Mark flipped open his notebook to a page full of notes written in English. “I guess I felt myself sympathizing with him. Even if I didn’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to?” Jinyoung felt taken aback. Suddenly hesitant to disclose his love for the character.

Mark’s face screwed together. “I mean he’s obnoxiously flawed. He thinks the whole world revolves around his love for Caddy. Which just leaves him blind to his own privileges and the love other people have for him. Which is why he offs himself even when his dad has given up so much to see him go to Harvard.”

“He loves her,” Jinyoung reasoned. “Isn’t that what love does? Makes us into flawed characters?”

“That’s not what it should do,” Mark’s eyes grew stern. “Love should make us into the best version of ourselves.”

Jinyoung stared back at him, unable to look away. Something in Mark’s eyes making it hard to breathe.

Mark blinked, everything in him shifting back to something softer. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Maybe I’m taking this too seriously.”

Jinyoung felt his breath catch in his throat. “I’m glad you have such strong opinions. It means you’re really reading.”

Mark’s face blossomed. He looked down to his notebook to hide his expression. But when he looked back up to Jinyoung, his eyes seemed reawakened, energized. “I thought we could go over some of the more obscure symbolism in this section,” he offered. “I imagine the professor will really be looking for those connections on our upcoming essays.”

Jinyoung felt his own mouth turn up in a smile. “You would be correct,” he grabbed his copy. “Let’s dive into it.”

\---

It didn’t take long for Jaebeom to notice a shift in Jinyoung, speaking up one night as they lay awake. Jinyoung was staring at the ceiling while Jaebeom had an arm snaked over his chest, holding him close.

“Hey,” Jinyoung heard Jaebeom’s voice whisper close to his ear. He turned his head, seeing his fiancé’s dark eyes fixed on his face. His mouth hanging open in hesitation.

“What’s going on in there?” Jaebeom asked, lightly tapping the space between Jinyoung’s eyebrows before letting his hand rest against his chest.

Jinyoung couldn’t answer quickly. “It’s rather congested at the moment. Try again later?”

Jaebeom huffed out a laugh. “I should have expected that,” he leaned in closer, letting his nose graze behind Jinyoung’s ear. “You’ve been a little on edge lately. You know that?”

Jinyoung squeezed his hand around Jaebeom’s. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “This whole school-work-life balance thing is getting the better of me.”

Jaebeom hummed in his ear, peppering the skin with the brush of his lips. “I understand,” he soothed. “Just let me know if you want to talk about it. I don’t want you to drown in it.”

Jinyoung nodded. “I know, babe,” he turned towards him. “I’m sorry if I don’t always feel… here. Just know that I am trying.”

Jaebeom smiled lightly, looking deep into his eyes. “I know you are,” he whispered. “I appreciate the effort.” He tilted his head down and grazed his lips against Jinyoung’s.

Jinyoung smiled. “You know I love you, right?”

Jaebeom nodded, “As sure as I know that I love you.”

\---

Sometime during that week, in between stolen glances at Mark during class, in between messy lines of poetry in the margins of his notes, Jinyoung had an idea. An idea that seemed like the ideal mix of innocent and ill intentioned. An idea that would satisfy his desire to learn more about Mark, to breathe more of his air, without crossing a line. Without feeling immoral.

He wanted Mark to give him a ride home.

Once he thought of it, his mind wouldn’t stop writing hypothetical scenes. Scenes of would-be conversations, would-be secrets, would-be confessions. Some more innocent than others. He spent the rest of his week daydreaming, planning, psyching himself up. And on Thursday, after another session with Mark, he set his plan into motion.

“Do you have classes after this?” Jinyoung asked out of the blue as Mark was packing up his backpack.

Mark looked up a bit surprised. “No,” he said. “I head home.”

“Me too,” Jinyoung replied, the corners of his mouth forced up. “I’ll follow you out.”

Mark licked his lips, continuing to pack his backpack silently.

Jinyoung locked up the office as they left, walking side by side down the hall together. “Do you live far?”

Mark shook his head. “I have a studio near Jamsil. It’s small but it’s more than enough for just me.”

Jinyoung became aware of how close their shoulders were as they walked, passing the classrooms that were quiet this late in the day. “Don’t you get lonely?”

Mark smiled down to the floor. “No,” he said. “I’ve always been better on my own.”

Jinyoung wasn’t sure how to interpret that.

“Who do you room with?” Mark asked.

Jinyoung wasn’t expecting this. “My roommate,” he rushed to the pseudo lie. “It’s... whatever.”

Mark didn’t respond but his eyes glimmered back in silent response. Jinyoung couldn’t help but want to know what was going on behind them.

They stopped on the steps of the building. The early autumn air musing Mark’s hair as he pulled on a beanie. “Well,” he pointed his thumb towards the parking lot. “I am heading this way.”

“Right,” Jinyoung nodded, putting his hands in his pockets nervously. He felt himself waiting for the right moment to-

“I’ll see you in class though?” Mark asked with a smile.

Jinyoung felt himself blink back. Not receiving the opportunity he had been hoping for. “Right,” he said, trying to hide his defeat. “See you in class.”

Mark smiled wide and waved as he started to turn away. “Have a good day, Park Teacher.”

“Thanks, Mark,” Jinyoung said with little life in his voice, waving as Mark left him on the front step of the Literature building. Nothing but formalities left in his wake.

\---

Jinyoung got up around eleven on Saturday morning. The sunlight was bright in the living room though he could notice how it was beginning to yellow ever so slightly in preparation of autumn. Jaebeom was absent from his side when he had opened his eyes that morning. And Jinyoung couldn’t be sure where he was but he vaguely remembered him saying something about Saturday morning and Jackson.

Jackson had been in their lives for over five years now. Jaebeom had met him at university where they were in the same accounting program. Jackson was a foreign student from China and Jaebeom was a patient study partner. Much like Jinyoung and Youngjae, the two became roommates and upon graduating, they both got recruited by the same firm. Jackson was bold, loud, and an endless stream of wit. He made an admirable adversary to Jinyoung’s own cleverness, leading him to feign annoyance whenever possible.

Jinyoung lay lazily on the couch in his pajamas, sipping coffee from a mug with Jaebeom’s company name emblazoned across it in a modern font. He flipped through the latest edition of the university’s monthly writing journal, where students could submit their work for publishing. There wasn’t anything special this month. An editorial piece someone wrote about walking backwards for a month. A creative piece told from the perspective of a stray cat in a rough neighborhood. But a full-page ad towards the end caught Jinyoung’s attention.

_November is Korea’s National Poetry Month! Submit your pieces now for our November edition! Deadline: October 15th_

Jinyoung considered it. Maybe he could work something up in his free time.

He heard the front door opening swiftly. “I can’t believe you didn’t stretch. No wonder you couldn’t make it past the eighth rep!” he heard Jackson’s loud and clear voice piercing the lazy morning quiet.

The boys paraded into the room in their workout clothes. Sweat still dotting their hairlines and shoulders. That was what Jinyoung was supposed to remember.

“Yeah, well at least I didn’t try and ask that cardio teacher out just to learn that she has three kids,” Jaebeom called back as he headed towards the kitchen.

“Hey, she looks good for her age,” Jackson shrugged. “Jinyoungie!” his voice pitched high as he came up behind him on the couch and put his arms tightly around him.

“Get off of me! You’re all sweaty!” Jinyoung shouted and struggled out of his grasp.

Jackson spread himself across the armchair. “You’re still in your pajamas? How long have you been up?”

Jinyoung shrugged. “Like an hour. Don’t shame me.”

Jaebeom rounded the corner, throwing a bottle of water to Jackson. “Jinyoung, is he bothering you?”

“Always,” Jackson smiled. “How’s school?”

Jinyoung sat up and tossed the newsletter onto the coffee table, “Two hundred and forty seven days until my thesis is due.”

“Wow,” Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you have time to speak to me?”

Jinyoung folded his hands behind his head. “I’ve penciled in this interaction.”

“Always room in your heart for me, hm?” Jackson mused in a sweet voice, his hand over his chest.

Jinyoung hummed with a sarcastic smile across his face. “How’s work?”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “You know how it is this time of year. Fall deadlines. Everyone is scrambling. So I hope you’re looking forward to seeing less of your fiance.”

“Not really,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I’m a terrible cook without Jaebeom to make dinner.”

“He managed to burn soybean paste the other day,” Jaebeom shook his head and sat down next to Jinyoung on the couch, slinging an arm around him. “It smelled like death when I got home.”

“The instructions on that blog you like were not very clear,” Jinyoung defended.

Jackson laughed. “I love it when you two bicker. Reminds me you’re not as disgustingly perfect as you seem,” he took a swig from his water, swallowing before speaking again. “Speaking of, did you guys set your date yet?”

Jaebeom nodded. “July. At a wedding hall near Hapjeong Station.”

“July?” Jackson whined. “It’s gonna be hot as balls. I’ll be sweating my ass off in my suit.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at him. “Then don’t be in the wedding party. What do you want me to do? Change the weather to accommodate your bodily functions.”

Jackson’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “Just don’t expect me to keep my jacket on for longer than the ceremony.”

“Deal,” Jaebeom smiled, diffusing the two of them with a smile.

\---

Jinyoung wasn’t trying to smell Mark. He really wasn’t. He hadn’t even considered what Mark would smell like. If you would have asked him before, he would have guessed maybe a bit like soap or an ocean breeze. Something cool and clean from the look of him.

But now that they were shoulder to shoulder, looking over the first draft of Mark’s paper together, Jinyoung realized that like all of his original notions of Mark, he was mistaken.

Jinyoung was trying not to think about it. He was trying to focus on telling Mark how changing the structure of his paper could help clarify his argument, but he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by this specific scent that he couldn’t place. It was warm and sweet and strangely comforting. And it took him nearly the whole hour to put his finger on what the aroma reminded him of. But when it finally popped into his head, he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Mark smelled like cinnamon candy.

“I guess I am just having trouble with the wording of my argument,” Mark had his elbow on Jinyoung’s desk and his hand was combing through the hair above his ear, fingers slipping under the edge of his baseball cap. “I don’t feel like I am being clear enough.”

Jinyoung blinked, trying to be as present as possible. “Okay,” he nodded. “If you had to sum it up for me, in conversation, what would you say?”

Mark’s lips pursed and he thought for a second, trying to find the words. “The Sound and the Fury is about the family, yes, but mainly, it’s about Caddy. It’s about this girl who is grappling with growing up in a culture that wants to micromanage everything about her; down to the way her story is told.” He thought for a moment, before taking a quick breath. “The most tragic part of the story isn’t Benji’s mental disability or Quentin’s suicide or Jason’s maliciousness, but it’s that Caddy doesn’t get a say in how her story gets told. Instead, all she has are these men who want to objectify her and romanticize her and demonize her to further their own stories.”

Jinyoung felt a swell in his chest, this mixture of lightness and heaviness that felt like nothing he hadn’t felt before. Like he was gasping for air at the bottom of a swimming pool.

Mark looked back to Jinyoung and perhaps if they hadn’t been so close, the words wouldn’t have felt so intense as he spoke. “She’s a pawn for someone else’s self-discovery and that’s all.”

Jinyoung was unable to look away. Unable to fight the urge to fade into this one moment and spend eternity trying to figure out why it made his chest feel like it might burst.

He licked his lips. “Well,” he finally said, looking down at his pen and twirling it in his fingers in a desperate attempt to keep himself present. “I think you’ve made a great point. One that deserves to be heard. But I don’t think you need my help finding the words for it.”

Mark’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion.

“Mark, how long have you been living in Korea?” Jinyoung asked.

Mark thought momentarily. “Four years.”

Jinyoung blinked. “Four years,” he repeated. “And you can defend these kinds of literary concepts? Most of my students who speak Korean from birth can’t do that.”

Mark looked down slightly, his lips tugging into a shy smirk before his eyes traveled back to Jinyoung’s face.

“Just,” Jinyoung put the pen down on his desk, squaring his shoulders towards him. “I don’t want you to keep thinking that you have this great disadvantage. That you are behind everyone else in your classes. Because from what I’ve seen, you are worlds above the others. Not just because you’re smart and hardworking but because you actually care about what you study. And your passion never ceases to amaze me.” 

Jinyoung immediately felt the hot prick of regret snaking up his neck, wishing he could shove those last few words back where they came from. But they were already sound waves bouncing off the walls and their ears and making Mark lips tug again. But this time, he kept his eyes locked on Jinyoung’s, no longer hiding.

Mark took a deep breath. “That means a lot,” he said, knitting his hands together in his lap. “I’m always second guessing myself, you know? I never intended to start school when I moved here but I just wasn’t happy working these small dead-end jobs at coffee shops and bookstores. I just knew I couldn’t be proud of myself, be happy, until I at least tried to be something greater.”

Jinyoung shook his head. “I don’t want to give you the impression that a piece of paper is going to cure that feeling. I am halfway through my master’s and I still have days where I wake up and think I’m wasting my time.” He laughed. “But I understand. And I respect you for it.”

Mark grinned, “Thanks, Park Teacher.”

“Mark,” he smacked his lips, breaking up the heavy feeling in the air. “You don’t have to call me that. I’m probably not even that much older than you.”

Mark was suddenly silent.

“When were you born, Mark?” Jinyoung asked, tilting his head.

Mark looked to the floor. “93,” he muttered under his breath. He sighed, “I’ve never had a teacher that’s younger than me. Am I not supposed to...”

Jinyoung scoffed, smiling. “It’s fine,” he said. “But, from now on, just Jinyoung, okay?”

Mark smiled. “Okay,” he whispered. “Whatever you say, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung shouldn’t have felt it course through his body, coating every inch of him in heat, but he did. He tried to cover his neck as he felt it go warm. “We should,” he struggled to get the words out. “We should finish this up before they close the building on us.” He hovered back over the essay and tried to ignore all the unfamiliar feelings boiling inside him.

\---

“It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, you know,” Jinyoung said, his voice edging on aggressive.

Youngjae laughed loud, almost spilling his coffee. “Yeah, right,” he rolled his eyes. “In the summer, it must get too hot to cuddle right? You need to let your feet dangle over the edge of the bed to cool down?”

“I’m serious,” Jinyoung said softer, shrinking away. He hadn’t intended for the conversation to flow here during his coffee date with Youngjae but it just happened organically. Mostly because Youngjae had a habit of talking about how lucky Jinyoung was. To have what he has with Jaebeom. And usually, he agreed but something about this time made him not so easily take the compliment.

“Okay, okay,” Youngjae calmed down, rolling his eyes. “Let me hear it. What’s so hard about meeting the love of your life?”

Jinyoung looked down at the table, spinning his straw around in a circle. “Think about it,” he said, unwilling to make eye contact. “I’ll never get a first kiss again.”

He looked up slightly and saw Youngjae’s face blank in confusion.

“I’ll never flirt with someone and nervously wonder if they are flirting back,” he continued. The ice churning together noisily. “I’ll never fall in love again.”

Youngjae’s face was tight, puzzled. “This is why I can’t date a lit major,” he scoffed. “Cause even when you think they are blissfully in love and they pull this type of shit out of their ass.”

Jinyoung couldn’t help but stifle out a laugh behind his hand.

\---

Mid-fall rains clouded the skies and Jinyoung’s mind as they went over Mark’s Great Gatsby rough draft. Distracted by the feeling of Mark’s hot breath against his neck as he was looking over his shoulder. It sometimes felt like Mark was getting closer and closer every time they met. And Jinyoung saw it happening but didn’t know what to do about it. So he just felt his collar getting a little tighter each time, struggling to pay attention to what he was reading.

“This is the best one yet,” Jinyoung remarked when he had finished reading. “I honestly don’t think I have anything to say.”

Mark shrugged. “I read it in high school, so I just recycled a lot of the same ideas from then.”

“Regardless,” Jinyoung handed it back to him. “It’s top mark material.”

Mark smiled to himself. “I appreciate it. I wish I had more to offer you today.”

“Maybe just a conversation about something other than literature will do,” Jinyoung leaned back in his chair.

“You tired of it?” Mark asked.

“I just need a break,” Jinyoung rubbed his face.

Mark’s eyes went behind Jinyoung’s desk to the window overlooking the green, “The leaves are looking beautiful.”

Jinyoung swung around. The trees that lined the green were speckled with yellow, reds, and oranges. They waved in the misty wind, letting go of a few more leaves each time.

“Do you like autumn?” Jinyoung asked.

“It’s beautiful. But I always mourn the end of summer.” Jinyoung couldn’t see him but could hear the smile in his voice.

“Where are you from in America?” Jinyoung turned back around towards him.

“Los Angeles.”

“Oh, LA,” Jinyoung smirked. “I’ve always wanted to go there. I’m from the south, so I love the beach.” He paused, falling for a moment into a memory. “I remember,” he started. “When I was little, my mom and dad used to take me down to the water and I would try to lose them. Just for fun. I would hike through the mangroves and hide on the edges of the estuaries. They would be shouting for me, playing along, knowing I was doing it on purpose.”

“But one time, we went just after a few days of storms. And I tried to do the same thing, but I didn’t account for the tide being so high. So my usual spot was underwater and I ended up misstepping, falling, getting dragged into the strong current going out towards the ocean. I was yelling for help, fighting to keep my head above water. I’d never felt panic like that in my life. But my older sister heard me and swam into the pass, snatching me by my shirt and dragging me back to shore.”

Mark’s eyes were wide, listening. “Did you ever do it again?” he said softly.

Jinyoung smiled. “Of course,” he shrugged. “Nothing could have kept me away from the water.”

Mark’s eyes went warm, his bottom lip tucking under the top row of his smile. He looked at Jinyoung for a moment, almost a moment too long, before speaking. “Hey. Where do you live again?” he asked, brows furrowing.

Jinyoung stopped. Hearing the way Mark was asking as if he had asked the same question before, but he hadn’t. And the implication of the again carried a different meaning now. His chest felt tight. “Near Dogok station,” Jinyoung rushed, hearing a slight falter in his voice and hoping Mark wouldn’t catch it.

“I can give you a ride?” Mark offered. “You’re on my way, you’ve had a long day, and it’s too crummy outside to walk to the station.”

Jinyoung didn’t know how he drifted into this dream, but he knew he didn’t want to wake up. “Yeah,” he said. “I would appreciate that.” That tightness in his chest twisting.

“Come on,” Mark began packing up his backpack.

Jinyoung followed, locking up his desk and throwing his messenger bag over his shoulder. He grabbed two more books he needed for classes from the shelf and slid them inside.

“You ready?” Mark stopped himself in the threshold, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung breathed.

When they got to the front door of the department, they could see the rain coming down in sheets. “Let’s just run for it,” Mark offered. “I’m parked on the street alongside the green there.” He pointed vaguely out the front windows.

“Okay,” Jinyoung said, feeling overwhelmed.

“Ready?” Mark mock lunged as if he was starting a race.

Jinyoung nodded.

“Let’s go!” Mark threw open the front door and together, they ran. 

The rain was heavy and Jinyoung could feel it seeping through his clothes and his hair and his shoes. The humidity in the air made his breaths hard and fast and he was thrumming with each step he took, following closely behind Mark.

Mark ran down to the street, towards his car. Jinyoung was trying to take it in in their hurry. It was old. Obviously second hand. The paint was a dirty teal color that was turning to silver in some parts.

Jinyoung padded up to the passenger side, eagerly opening the door and sliding in. The seats were a graying leather that were sun bleached in some spots. He could feel the dampness of his trousers and the droplets that dotted the fibers of his sweater adhering to the smooth finish. He slammed the door behind him, before looking over to Mark. His blonde hair was damp, a dripping strand of it hanging in his face. They were both breathing heavy. And there was a moment where they just looked at each other. But then Mark’s smile broke and then Jinyoung’s followed and they were cracking up.

When the laughter had faded, Mark started the car. He pulled out of the spot and continued down the street. He kept his eyes on the road, shrugging, “I could ride you home next week if you wanted.”

Jinyoung’s lungs suddenly filled with air. He should have denied him. He got his ride. One should have been enough. Yet when he opened his mouth, he betrayed himself. “Yeah,” he said. “I would appreciate that.”

\---

When Jinyoung got home, Jaebeom was in the kitchen cooking.

“You’re home early,” Jinyoung said, tossing his bag on the couch. “You get fired or something?”

“Please,” Jaebeom scoffed. “I just wanted to make you dinner, so I brought home some work.”

“Babe,” Jinyoung smiled and lacing his arms around his fiancé’s middle. “It smells so good.”

Jaebeom put down the spoon he was using to stir and turned towards Jinyoung. He lifted him up, sitting him on the counter. He stood between his legs. “Why are you all wet?” he looked over him.

“It’s raining,” Jinyoung smiled, remembering distantly how Mark’s wet hair looked slicked back from his face.

Jaebeom hummed, reaching for the edge of his sweater and pulling it over his head. “That’s better,” he smiled. “How was your day? You seem like you’re on top of the world.”

Jinyoung blinked, realizing he hadn’t been cognizant of containing his enthusiasm. “Almost done with the lit review of my thesis,” he reasoned. “Almost.”

“Well, good,” Jaebeom got close, craning his head into Jinyoung’s neck. “We can both get some work done tonight. And then maybe when you finish, you can get a reward.”

Jinyoung felt the corners of his mouth moving up, “I like rewards.”

“Oh, I know,” Jaebeom laughed, turning back towards the stove. “Go change and set the table.”

“I like it when you’re bossy,” Jinyoung smirked, pushing himself off the counter.

\---

“I saw your poem in the paper,” Mark said casually the next week on their drive home. The weather outside was getting chillier by the day and the windows of the car were clouded by their body heat.

Jinyoung’s head flooded with thoughts and he had to weed through them quickly to respond. “Why are you reading the lit department’s journal?”

“Someone was handing them out on the green and practically shoved a copy into my hands,” Mark shrugged. “It was good. Your poem.”

“Yeah?” Jinyoung asked.

Mark nodded. “Especially that one part…” he looked up in thought, straining to remember. “All I see in my mind is a tangle of Virgos summoning Mercury. Reading between words and languages. Most of them not verbal.”

Jinyoung’s chest felt tight and he couldn’t help but stare at Mark’s profile as he spoke. The rhythm of the words falling into place perfectly and the sound of his accent only making each one sound sweeter.

“Yeah, well,” Jinyoung sighed, finally. “I was only an honorable mention. The winner was an obvious choice.”

“I didn’t get to read that one,” Mark furrowed his brows and turned down the white noise of the radio. “Can you read it to me?” He motioned over to the glovebox.

Jinyoung blinked. “Oh…yeah sure,” he stuttered out, opening the glovebox and pulling out the rolled up journal. He flipped to the back, clearing his voice before starting.

_“The idea of you and me only exists in small places._   
_In cramped offices with views of turning leaves,_   
_Eager knees banging up against the laminate wood finish._   
_And passenger seats where the seatbelts pull too tight to breathe,_   
_Struggling to keep my eyes on the road, my hands on the wheel._   
_In the dreams you have between snooze buttons,_   
_Which always feel longer, grander than they really are._   
_In between the pages we turn in unison,_   
_As I try to uncover your story amidst theirs._   
_Between the meanings of the words you speak just loud enough for me to hear,_   
_My infinitesimal islands of clarity in your sea of mixed signals._   
_The careless way you form your mouth around your words,_   
_Yet the careful way you choose each and every one._   
_The idea of you and me only exists in small places,_   
_And yet, I’ll happily suffocate in them.”_

Mark shrugged. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

“Okay?” Jinyoung’s eyes went wide. “It’s too good. I keep trying to guess who it was in the department, but the style doesn’t fit any of them.”

Mark chuckled. “Well, let me know if you figure it out.”

\---

The fall semester was coming to an end which meant it was Jinyoung’s last office hours. And he had this bittersweet feeling. As if part of him was glad he wouldn’t have Mark around anymore. Glad he wouldn’t have him clouding his mind and raising his heart rate. But part of him knew that he would miss those curious and unfamiliar feelings. Miss trying to unravel Mark, who was nothing like anyone he’d ever known. 

“What are you doing for your holiday?” Mark asked on their ride home.

“Mm,” Jinyoung rushed to think of his plans minus Jaebeom. “I’m going to visit my family. Eat lots of food. Try to stay warm. You?”

Mark sighed. “Staying here. Hanging out with my friend’s family.”

Jinyoung frowned. “You can’t go home?”

Mark shook his head, ringing his hands against the steering wheel. “Flights are too expensive during the holidays. Need to wait for it to settle down a bit.”

And Jinyoung felt a rush of empathy for Mark, not being able to imagine being so far from family and seeing them so infrequently.

They pulled up to Jinyoung’s apartment.

“Oh,” Mark perked. “I forgot to tell you, but the passenger door has been acting weird.” He began unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his own door. “Let me get it for you.” He rounded the car, opening Jinyoung’s door and giving him space to get out. “Sorry about that,” he smiled, nervously.

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung grabbed his messenger bag and threw it over his shoulder.

Mark shut the car door, leaning against it. “I did want to ask you something.”

Jinyoung felt his chest start to stir. He turned back towards the boy, noting his relaxed posture. His hands in the pockets of his parka. His lip between his teeth. “What?”

“Well,” Mark’s eyes brightened. “Since I won’t be driving you home anymore, I wanted to know if you wanted to maybe meet up for coffee after break or something.”

Jinyoung’s fingers felt nervously for the strap of his bag. His mouth was quickly drying out. “Li-like,” he stammered. “Like a date?”

Mark huffed out a laugh, a cloud of hot breath dissipating quickly in the winter air. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Like a date.”

Jinyoung’s ears felt like they were ringing and his skin crawled and, for some reason, this conversation that he had been imagining fondly for weeks felt terrifying in the moment. “Uh,” he tried to keep his voice even but all he could feel was a sudden shiver that wasn’t from the cold. “I’ve really enjoyed helping you with the class,” Jinyoung felt his lips curving into a smile despite the frantic quake emanating from him. “But I’m not interested in you, Mark.”

It took Mark’s face a few moments to fall from its confident smile. “What?”

Jinyoung blinked back. “I don’t like you like that?” he questioned.

“Oh,” Mark seemed to understand this time. “I’m sorry.” He started to nervously feel one of his arms. “I guess I just got the impression that you liked me.”

“How’s that?” Jinyoung tried not to rush the words.

“Uh,” Mark fingers wore deeper into the material of his coat. “I don’t know. You just…” his voice trailed off.

Jinyoung took a deep breath, trying to quell every nervous tic in hopes Mark wouldn’t notice. “I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression,” he said. Trying to convince himself and Mark at the same time.

“It was… I could have sworn,” Mark’s eyes darted towards the ground, visibly searching. As if he was playing back all these small moments between them for the answer.

Jinyoung didn’t know what to say.

Mark sighed in frustration. “Just… promise me that if we see each other on campus next semester that we’ll forget this whole conversation happened.” His voice wasn’t angry but a bit dejected.

“Mark,” Jinyoung tried to soothe. “It’s okay.”

“Promise me?” Mark looked up at him. His eyes were closer to pleading than they had ever been before.

Jinyoung licked his lips. Everything still crawling underneath the surface. He nodded.

Mark’s face broke into a forced smile. “Have a good holiday, Jinyoung,” he said, putting his hands back into his pockets and straining his disposition to something sunnier.

“You too,” Jinyoung tried to smile back but they were both trying too hard to salvage the moment.

Mark rounded his car again, getting in and driving off. Leaving Jinyoung to wonder what the hell had just happened.

When Jinyoung got up to his apartment, Jaebeom was already home. “Did you run home?” he looked over the edge of the couch. “Your face is bright red.”

Jinyoung felt at his cheeks. They were on fire. He averted his gaze. “No, it’s just cold out.”

\---

Jinyoung’s family had moved back to Jinhae shortly after their youngest started university. So Jaebeom and Jinyoung made the trek every other holiday to see them. “Merry Christmas!” Jinyoung’s family cheered at their big family dinner. There was virtually no room on the table between the multitude of dishes his mom had prepared. Everyone ate with haste and smiles, complimenting the food and enjoying each other’s company.

Jinyoung and one of his sisters were washing dishes afterward when she spoke up.

“How have you been?” she asked, drying a dish absentmindedly.

“School has been crazy,” Jinyoung nodded while he scrubbed. “But other than that, things have been good.” 

“Hm,” his sister hummed. “It’s okay if you’re not okay, you know?”

Jinyoung furrowed his brows, looking down at his task. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated to answer. “I know no one else has noticed but you seem a bit… off. I just want you to know that if you need to talk to someone, I am here.”

Jinyoung swallowed. “Sis, I’m good. I swear.”

“And Jaebeom?”

The dish Jinyoung was working on slipped out of his hands, clattering into the sink. They were both silent for a moment. “He’s fine,” Jinyoung shrugged. “We’re fine. No reason to worry.”

“Son,” Jinyoung’s mom hurried into the kitchen. “Your dad tells me you haven’t sent an invitation to your second cousins for the wedding yet?”

“Mom,” he sighed, grabbing a towel to dry his hands as he turned towards her. “We are trying to keep it small. Just close family and friends, remember?”

“I have one son,” she shook her head. “And he only finds the love of his life once. Yet you want to put a limit on how many people can celebrate?”

“Mom,” Jinyoung’s sister whined. “Stop being dramatic.”

Jaebeom popped into the kitchen. “Mother,” he soothed, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Why don’t we work on a guest list together so we can make sure we don’t miss anyone on your side of the family?”

Jinyoung’s mom smiled, putting her hand on top of his. “That would be lovely, Jaebeom,” she sighed, relieved. “Let me go get my address book.”

Jinyoung’s sister threw him a sympathetic look before following her mom.

Jinyoung smiled, returning his attention to the dishes.“You’re too sweet to her.”

Jaebeom came up behind Jinyoung and hugged him, resting his chin against his shoulder, “She’s been sweet to me.”

Jinyoung laughed. “Who wouldn’t be sweet to you?”

Jaebeom hummed in his ear. “She’s always going on about how well we complement each other. It’s nice to hear that kind of stuff.”

Jinyoung shook his head, “She watches too many dramas.”

“Aish,” Jaebeom jolted him a little, jokingly. “Stop being so cynical when I try and say something romantic.”

“Guys,” Jinyoung’s sister called for them. “We are opening gifts!”

“We will be right there!” he said, pulling Jinyoung’s waist away from the sink. “Come on. I’ll help you finish those later.”

\---

Jinyoung and Jaebeom lie on a mat in the guest bedroom, reading their books before bed when Jaebeom rolled closer to him. “Jinyoung,” he whispered. “There’s one more present I wanted to give you.”

Jinyoung blinked, “What do you mean?”

Jaebeom reached over to his bag, pulling out a slim box from the front pocket and turning over to put it in Jinyoung’s lap.

Jinyoung stared at the box, still. “What did you…?” his voice trailed off as he looked up into Jaebeom’s face, seeing how he was beaming in the low light.

“Open it,” he urged.

Jinyoung put his book to the side, sitting up and flipping open the case. Inside, he saw a thin gold chain reflecting in the low light. “What…?”

Jaebeom cleared his throat. “I know you aren’t one for jewelry,” he shrugged. “But I wanted to get you something you could wear, something low key. Until we get our rings next year, right?”

Jinyoung admired the way it shined in the light. Simple and minimal.

“Do you like it?” Jaebeom craned his neck, trying to look up into his face and read his reaction.

Jinyoung nodded. “I love it.”

“Here,” Jaebeom sat up. “I’ll put it on you.” He took the box and gingerly pulled out the chain. He sat behind Jinyoung and slipped it around his neck, leaning into him to kiss at his nape.

Jinyoung’s shoulder went up at the tickling sensation. He let his fingertips feel where the necklace lay against his collarbones. The roll of the chain against his skin.

Jaebeom kept kissing his skin. “Did you have a good Christmas?” he murmured.

“Perfect,” Jinyoung smiled. “Thank you again. For spending it with my family.”

Jaebeom turned his shoulders to face him. “Of course,” he whispered, kissing him.

The thing was Jinyoung loved so many things about Jaebeom. But especially this. Especially the way he radiated this calmness that made everyone around him feel safe and taken care of. And Jinyoung saw that in him every day. Saw how much he did to ensure the happiness of those closest to him. He was amazing. He always had been. 

“I love you so much,” Jinyoung whispered to him.

“I love you too,” Jaebeom smiled, kissing him again.

And that feeling, of being safe and loved, it was the most familiar feeling in the world.

\---

They both returned to Seoul but, as New Year’s approached, Jaebeom went to visit his parents leaving Jinyoung to tackle an upcoming thesis deadline at home without distractions. But even when they were apart, Jaebeom would call him every day.

“What are you doing tonight?” his fiance’s voice was soft in the receiver.

Jinyoung looked over his messy notes. “I have to find some more articles. I need to compare other authors during the 50s with similar prose. I’m trying to find more examples but-”

“No,” Jaebeom stopped him. “For New Year’s Eve, what are you doing?”

“Oh,” Jinyoung thought about it for the first time. “Well… I have some leftover-”

Jaebeom sighed. “Why don’t you call Youngjae and see what he’s doing?”

“Because he’s in Mokpo with his family,” Jinyoung sassed back.

“Ok,” Jaebeom reasoned. “Don’t you have some other people in your program you can message?”

“No,” Jinyoung protested. “Not unless I want the night to end in a fist fight about Walt Whitman. Again.”

Jaebeom laughed. “Just promise me you’ll take a break and go do something. It’s a holiday after all.”

Jinyoung glared even though Jaebeom couldn’t see it. “Fine,” he spat. “I’ll consider it. Now go tell your family I miss them.”

“I will,” Jaebeom said, his tone sunnier. “I miss you, babe.”

“Miss you too,” Jinyoung said, his tone still jokingly disgruntled. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

\---

Jinyoung wasn’t pulled from his work again until around ten. Remembering Jaebeom’s advice again, knowing the New Year was imminent. He defocused on the clock and the work in front of him, considering the year he had, what he’d done. He had gotten engaged. He had finished his first year of grad school. He had his first crush. 

He stopped, thinking. Was that true? Had Mark been his first real crush? Because he couldn’t consider Jaebeom a crush. There was no reckless pining or butterflies. It was just natural. What was between them had always been natural.

And while Jinyoung had been able to keep Mark out of his head for the past couple of weeks, the curve of his smile and the sound of his voice murky in his memory, even now, as he thought about Mark, he couldn’t replicate those biological responses he once had at the thought of him. The swell of his chest, the patching of heat on his skin, the race of his heart in his ears.

Jinyoung sighed, looking to the clock once again before swiftly getting up and getting dressed. He pulled on jeans, a sweater, his wool coat. And he took out his phone, pulling up his subway map. He closed his eyes, guiding his finger across the screen for a few seconds before stopping. He opened his eyes. Seeing how he had pinpointed the center of the map. Itaewon.

It wasn’t a part of the city he went to often. Most often a home to foreigners, close to the US military base. But nightlife was popular there. So he knew there would be plenty of bars and opportunities to people-watch. He began his walk to the station. The cool air nipping at his ears, making him wish he had remembered a hat too late. But when he finally pulled into Itaewon station, ascending nearly two hundred stairsteps, he picked an exit at random and stumbled into the first bar he saw. He was warmed by the buzz of portable heaters and the glow of a large, diverse crowd. Green soju bottles and beer glasses scattered around on too small of tables. Crowds huddled around televisions, catching glimpses of New Year’s coverage from around the world.

Jinyoung was nodding off, his eyes defocusing on the bright lights of the televisions when he felt something knock his shoulder, turning to see someone falling into him. A flurry of blonde hair moving so fast that Jinyoung instinctively rushed to hold out his arms, trying to steady them as their back hit his chest with a thump. “Oof.” A wave of air crashed over Jinyoung as they landed. Smelling nothing but a sudden strong sweetness, mixed with something warm. Cinnamon candy.

They looked up into Jinyoung’s face, upside down; eyes lighting up. “Jinyoung!” said the boy as he burst into laughter. His smile was electric, blinding him with its spark.

“Mark,” Jinyoung felt his lips pulling tight. “What are you doing here?” He pulled the boy up a little more until he was standing on his own two feet again. And just like that, the blurred lines of his memory were crisp. The angle of Mark’s smile, the excited tone of his voice, the way his eyes were always alive, the way he smelled like no one else. And just like that, the wave in his chest was roaring to life again, ready to crash.

“What else is a foreigner to do on New Year’s Eve?” Mark shrugged his shoulders, more animated than he’d ever been before. “What’s your excuse?”

Jinyoung sighed. “Big thesis deadline. No time to go all the way home.”

Mark pouted his lip out, mocking him a little. “You work too hard, you know that?”

Jinyoung noticed how close the boy’s face was so that he could be heard over the roar of the bar. He laughed, nervously. “You’re not the first person to tell me.”

Mark grinned, his eyes glassy. His breath smelled like soju and it was mixing with the cinnamon and Jinyoung couldn’t help but think it was amazing. “Well for tonight alone, you are not Jinyoung, the hard-working academic,” Mark outstretched his hand. “You are just Jinyoung, my party companion.”

Jinyoung should have said no. He should put the much-needed distance between them. But he was alone and tired and something about Mark was making him feel like home in a much-more-needed way. He nodded, taking his hand and letting himself be pulled across the room to a seated area.

“Jinyoung,” Mark said excitedly as they both approached a booth against the wall. “You remember Yugyeom from class!”

“Park Teacher!” the tall boy’s voice rang out excitedly. “Yeah, man! You gave me a C+ on my final paper!”

“It wasn’t great,” Jinyoung smiled. “You can call me Jinyoung now though.”

“Rad, rad,” Yugyeom laughed, lids heavy.

“And this is our friend, Bambam,” Mark motioned to the silver haired boy who was shoulder to shoulder with Yugyeom. His long legs crossed together, forming a tangle of sharp angles.

“Call me, Double B,” Bambam smirked and held out a hand.

“Don’t call him that,” Mark scoffed. “Nobody calls him that.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jinyoung shook his hand, wondering how Mark got taken in by a team of miscreant undergrads and how that dynamic could possibly work.

“Do you have a drink?” Mark suddenly said, wide eyed. “You need a drink. You like soju? You look like you like soju.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Yeah.”

Mark sat down and motioned for Jinyoung to as well. Yugyeom twisted open another red topped soju bottle and poured for everyone, only spilling a little.

“To a new year. Full of new experiences,” Mark raised his glass. Everyone followed, clinking glasses with a jjan before bouncing them against the table and onto their lips, tipping their heads back.

Jinyoung hadn’t drank soju in a while and forgot how strong it tasted, gritting his teeth as he swallowed. But by the time he set down his glass, Yugyeom was already filling it again.

“Alright,” Bambam spoke through his accent and his grimace from his taste of the drink. “Back to where we were before you so rudely tried to escape.”

“Oh, not this again,” Mark whined.

“Yes, this again,” Bambam nodded.

“Who are you gonna kiss, Mark?” Yugyeom giggled.

“Kiss?” Jinyoung heard himself questioning before he even thought, his neck suddenly flushing from more than just the alcohol.

“Like in America, kissing someone when it turns to the next year,” he told Jinyoung before turning back towards his friends. “No one,” he spoke over the roar of the bar, shaking his head. “No one likes me.”

Jinyoung scoffed, picking up his soju glass and sipping it absentmindedly. “That can’t be true.”

Mark motioned to the room. “Then please. Go ahead. Find me someone.”

Jinyoung didn’t have a response that wasn’t him volunteering himself so he just downed the rest of his glass and watched Yugyeom fill it up again.

“It’s not a big deal, Mark,” Yugyeom sighed, dreamily. “We don’t have anyone to kiss either.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Oh please. You guys, like always, are gonna end up kissing each other cause you act like that’s how best friends work.”

Bambam and Yugyeom side eyed each other quickly, hiding smirks.

Jinyoung pieced enough of it together.

“You know what. I’m okay with it,” Mark leaned back in his chair. “I’ve always been a lone wolf. A boyfriend would just hold me down.”

Jinyoung felt his chest twisting as Mark spoke. He hadn’t heard him speak about his personal life before. And it took him back to when Mark had asked him out. Shivering as he remembered the chill of the cold day, that disappointed look on Mark’s face. How he made Jinyoung promise not to mention it again. And it left Jinyoung wondering if these comments were being aimed at him.

“I hear you, Mark,” Yugyeom agreed, raising a glass. “We don’t need anyone else to be happy.”

Bambam cackled. “That’s not what you said when you called me drunk last week.”

“Shut up,” Yugyeom whined, punching Bambam’s shoulder playfully.

Mark gave an exasperated sigh, turning towards Jinyoung. “This is the point of the night where they start getting disgusting with each other and I’d rather not watch.” He knocked Jinyoung’s shoulder, “Let’s go check out the fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” Jinyoung questioned.

“On the rooftop,” Mark grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the back staircase. “You can see the Lotte Tower and the Han River fireworks from up there.”

Jinyoung let himself be pulled up the stairs. Foreigners were grouped up along the roof. Their open containers in hand and their non-Korean words jarring his ears.

“Do you come here often?” Jinyoung raised his voice above the noise. “To Itaewon?”

Mark shrugged, still leading. “When I need to hear English. Feel a little less like an outsider.” He pulled Jinyoung to the edge of the balcony. 

From its edge they could see the other rooftop bars in the neighborhood with their own gaggles of foreigners. Distantly, they could see the city lights reflected in the Han River and Lotte Tower tall and bright against the skyline. 

“I love this city,” Mark said, looking over the skyline. His eyes bright, his cheekbones glinting in the city light, his breath visible in the cold air. Jinyoung couldn’t deny how beautiful he was. “Nearly ten million people,” he sighed. “Everything you do feels so blissfully insignificant. Like there isn’t a soul in the world that can see you. It’s like no one is watching. And therefore, none of it is real.”

“But I can see you,” Jinyoung said, fixated on him.

Mark looked back to him, smiling. “You don’t count.”

There was a buzz among the crowd. Mark checked his watch. “Oh, it’s time! It’s happening!” he said excitedly.

The countdown started and the crowd screamed loud in time. Jinyoung couldn’t help but wonder what drew him out tonight and how he ended up shoulder to shoulder with Mark again. He looked over to Mark who was shouting at the top of his lungs, excitedly. His eyes closed and his tipsy smile wide. In his profile, the skin under his ear looked so soft and Jinyoung felt that feeling that he hasn’t felt in three weeks to be closer. And the thought made it feel like the ground was turning under him. And when he reached out to steady himself, he didn’t mean to grab onto Mark but it’s all he had been focused on.

Mark jolted, even with his slowed reaction time, turning towards Jinyoung’s touch. No longer counting down with the crowd, his eyes were wide and full of questions. His mouth small.

Jinyoung’s thumb ran itself over the skin under his ear instinctively and he felt himself shiver when it was just as soft as he imagined it would be.

“Three!” Jinyoung saw Mark’s eyes flicker down to his mouth, felt the swallow in his throat under his thumb.

“Two!” Jinyoung licked his lips unconsciously, feeling his head still spinning though he was no longer trying to steady himself.

“One!” the crowd turned to a faint echo as Jinyoung felt gravity’s shift tilt him towards Mark. And while he should have planted his feet, should have stood his ground, should have regained himself, he didn’t. Instead, he just closed any frenzied space between their faces and let his lips press gingerly into Mark’s while his hand still grazed his neck.

The busy, congested rooftop fell away and everything felt important. The way Mark’s nose grazed his cheek and the feather light press of his body. The smell of cinnamon candy and the lightheadedness that consumed everything until Jinyoung was nothing but the dull ache of a thought he should be having. Of a consciousness that was weakly fighting to regain control. But was being drowned out by all the small, insignificant details that prioritized themselves.

Mark pulled away and Jinyoung opened his eyes slowly to see the boy’s smile, beaming brighter than any fireworks he’d ever seen. There was something like a giggle in between his teeth and his eyes were fluorescent. And the look must have been contagious with how Jinyoung could feel his face tighten with the same smile.

But the sinking realization of what had happened came down quick and hard. Jinyoung blinked and all he could see in his mind was Jaebeom. His smile fell and he suddenly felt disassociated. He felt himself backing away. He saw Mark’s eyes moving from bright to confused to concerned. Saw him try and reach out. But Jinyoung pulled away. 

He turned and he ran. Down the stairs, back through the bar, and out the door. Not looking back. And as he ran down the main road, he saw the infrequent car on the road passing him and felt the cold air filling his lungs till they burned. The sidewalk was busy with foreign faces speaking in unknown words and he was struggling to keep it together. He dodged people left and right, not stopping until he finally got to Noksapyeong station. He caught his breath, riding the escalators down into the circular tower that buried itself into the underground. The deeper he went, the deeper inside himself he went. Not able to piece apart what had just happened. Nor why or how. All he knew was that it was going to be a long ride home.

\---

Jinyoung woke up to blinding white and sudden noise. The light shining in through his window. The sounds of his phone going off. And he rolled over, feeling for it on the side table. “Hello?” he answered through a hoarse voice.

“Good morning, babe,” Jaebeom’s voice came through the speaker soft and smooth. “Sleep too late?”

Jinyoung rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “What time is it?”

“Two in the afternoon,” Jaebeom said with an audible smile.

“Uh,” Jinyoung groaned. “Shit.” His body felt sore all over and his legs felt like they were two hundred pounds each.

“What happened last night?” Jaebeom asked. “I tried to call a bit after midnight but you didn’t pick up. Did you go out?”

And Jinyoung tried to think but it was all coming back so slowly. The chill of the rooftop, the roar of the crowd, the warmth of smooth skin, the smell of cinnamon candy. And it suddenly hit him all at once, hard enough to have him sitting straight up in bed, flooding with all the memories of what he’d done.

“No, no,” Jinyoung rushed, feeling his heartbeat pick up. “I’m sorry I missed your call. I knocked out before the clock even struck.”

Jaebeom laughed. “God, you’re lame.”

Jinyoung’s heart started to calm when no more questions were asked. “That’s why you love me,” Jinyoung offered, rubbing his face. “You on your way home then?”

“Yeah,” Jaebeom said. “Probably an hour or so left. Wanna grab dinner when I get back?”

“Sure.”

Jaebeom paused for a moment, voice softer when he spoke again. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” Jinyoung said though his head was somewhere else.


	3. Waves

A week went by. School started again. New semester. New classes both as a student and a teaching assistant. It was odd how quiet Jinyoung’s office felt during his first office hours of the new semester. The sound of the clock amplified. Jinyoung half imagining Mark’s face in his doorway. What questions he would have about the books for Modern Korean Literature. How Jinyoung would have responded. How he would have explained certain Korean idioms.

He looked out his office window at the green that was freshly blanketed with snow. Students bundled in ankle length parkas made their way to classes. Heads down, pushing forward.

There was a ding at his laptop. He turned, enthusiastically, his eyes falling upon his university email inbox.

_Tuan, Mark. Subject: Hey you._

Jinyoung felt his stomach churn. He hurriedly clicked.

_Let’s catch up. Coffee? Three o’clock? Café Mula? -Mark_

Jinyoung took a quick breath. He stared at the message. His chest aching. His mind starting to race. Why did Mark send it? What could he possibly want? Should he meet with him?

His head swam with possibilities, running through infinite situations. None of them giving him a no loss solution.

He looked over to the clock. He tapped his fingers across his desk. He let out a long, pent up breath. “Fuck,” he murmured.

He packed up his bag and locked up.

\---

As Jinyoung approached the café, he had his sunglasses on and was nervously looking around. He was relieved that Mark had asked him to meet at the cafe on the distant side of campus. He could only hope that he didn’t run into anyone he knew.

He came in and looked around the cafe quickly, surveying for familiar faces. When he didn’t see anyone, he took the glasses off and stowed them in his jacket pocket. He saw the back of a baseball cap with slightly overgrown blonde locks peeking out beneath sitting in the farthest booth. The unmistakable slope of Mark’s neck and shoulders made Jinyoung’s heart race as he moved towards the booth and slid across from him.

“Hey,” Mark said warmly, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug. “I grabbed you a vanilla latte,” he said, gesturing to the mug on Jinyoung’s side. “I remember you getting them last semester.”

Jinyoung felt uneasy and the thought of caffeine didn’t ease that feeling. “Thanks,” he said, plainly.

“How’s the new semester been so far? Did you make that deadline okay?” Mark’s smile was small but earnest.

Jinyoung opened his mouth, hesitating around his words. “Why did you call me here, Mark?”

“Why don’t we catch up and enjoy our drinks first?” Mark said softly. His tongue pushed at the inside of his cheek like he was growing annoyed.

“I have a class in thirty minutes,” Jinyoung lied.

Mark’s eyes turned stale. “Fine,” his tone soured. He pushed his mug aside and crossed his arms onto the table. “New Year’s Eve. What happened?”

Jinyoung saw it coming but it somehow still managed to hit him like a freight train. He sighed, suddenly feeling too hot and dizzy under his jacket. He was glad he had practiced the words on his way here. “It wasn’t a big deal. We were drunk. We kissed. It was New Year’s. Let’s move on.”

“No,” Mark protested. “Come on. You barely drank anything that night.”

“You’re wrong. I was wasted. I just hide it well.”

Mark shook his head. “God,” he sighed. “I really wish you would stop doing this.”

“Doing what?” Jinyoung put a hand through his hair, trying not to show how he was shaking.

“Pretending like you didn’t want to kiss me,” Mark smiled but it wasn’t happy. It was pointed, annoyed. “You keep doing this thing where you try and act like you don’t like me when you clearly do.”

Jinyoung was getting too hot too quick. “I don’t like you, Mark.”

“Bullshit,” Mark spat out.

Jinyoung felt the heat rush through him. He slammed a fist against the table. His latte sloshed into its saucer, messily. “Mark!” he asserted, trying to keep his voice from cracking into a shout. “I don’t like you.”

Mark’s eyes were wide.

Jinyoung stayed tense. “My word should be enough.”

Mark’s gaze shifted to stare at the coffee spilled across the table and how it pooled around Jinyoung’s fist. He swallowed hard. “Ok,” he said softly. “It’s enough.”

Jinyoung uncurled his hand and took a deep breath. He looked down to his mug, picking up the small spoon on the saucer and giving it a swirl. He watched as the foam heart dissipated. “Do you remember last month when I promised to forget our conversation? When you asked me out?”

Mark’s eyes clouded for a moment before returning to Jinyoung’s face. He nodded.

“You need to promise me that you’ll forget that New Year’s Eve ever happened,” Jinyoung’s glance flicked up towards Mark. “Promise?”

Mark grimaced slightly. “And why would I do that?”

Jinyoung’s shoulders dropped. He thought for a moment. “Because I’m asking you to.”

Mark sighed, looking around, pensive. He toyed with the handle on his mug. He gave another long, exasperated sigh. “Fine,” he finally said, quietly. “I won’t mention it again.”

Jinyoung felt a stab in his chest, an ache. Knowing that Mark didn’t deserve this type of treatment. “I got to go,” he said, placing the untouched coffee closer to Mark. “I’m sorry,” he said. And it managed to sound both sincere and insincere.

“Yeah,” Mark huffed. “I’ll see you around, Jinyoung.”

And Jinyoung got up, silently. Not replying back. Because he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Mark around.

\---

The guilt was manageable at first. Jinyoung had ended things with Mark before they had a chance to begin. He didn’t ask for his number. He didn’t continue to see him. So therefore, he should feel exonerated, right?

But thoughts of Mark would slip through his defenses. Sometimes he’d be reading something and hear Mark’s witty comeback in his ears. Or he’d wonder what was for dinner and think what kind of meal he’d want to share with Mark. And these little thoughts started piling up until Jinyoung was left riddled with guilt.

He felt the need to act against it. And the only way he could think of was to show Jaebeom how much he loved him.

He had been sitting on the couch when Jaebeom came home. His fiancé dropped the keys on the kitchen counter. “Babe,” he called out to him. “What is this?” He pointed to the multicolored box on the counter.

Jinyoung shrugged. “Open it.”

Jaebeom pulled off the top of the box, his face questioning. He folded back the tissue paper and pulled out a camera.

“Is this… is this the film camera?” Jaebeom stuttered, walking himself towards Jinyoung. “The one I’d been researching?”

Jinyoung nodded.

“How did you… how did you know?” Jaebeom blinked. “This is exactly the one I wanted.”

“Intuition,” Jinyoung smirked. In reality, he combed through Jaebeom’s internet history.

“Babe,” Jaebeom gave him a smile, sitting down next to him on the couch. “Come here,” he grabbed his arm and brought him in for a kiss. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Jinyoung shrugged, “I wanted too. I just want to show you I love you.”

Jaebeom pulled away exploring the camera from all angles. “It’s perfect,” he reveled. “Thank you so much.”

Jinyoung came closer to him, resting his head against his shoulder. “Maybe when the cherry blossoms come in next month, you can take some photos of us.”

Jaebeom nodded. “I think that sounds amazing.”

Distantly, Jinyoung thought about Mark’s blonde hair against the pink of the blossoms and sighed when it had only been seconds before Mark was popping up in his thoughts again.

\---

Youngjae complained enough times about missing the good old days that he drew Jinyoung out to the club to be his wingman. Jinyoung wasn’t thrilled to go but Jaebeom just laughed, throwing a sweater and a nice pair of jeans at him and saying he should be supportive of his friend.

“It’s just like old times, right?” Youngjae called over the loud music of the club, swaying to the beat.

“I don’t know why you come to these places and expect to find anyone but undergrads who are desperate to get off,” Jinyoung shouted back before taking another sip of his drink.

“Maybe I’m into that,” Youngjae shrugged, mocking offense.

Jinyoung laughed and shook his head.

“Oh,” Youngjae perked up. “Four o’clock.”

“Yours or mine?” Jinyoung swerved his head around.

“Stop being obvious,” Youngjae slapped his shoulder. “Yours.”

Jinyoung spotted a boy with long legs and brightly colored hair leaning over the bar. The lights of the bar and the smoke from people’s cigarettes silhouetting him. Yellow tinged sunglasses sat low on his nose. He looked familiar but Jinyoung couldn’t place him.

He looked back to Youngjae whose eyes were asking for approval.

Jinyoung shrugged. “Go talk to him then,” he said and waved him away. “I’ll be here.”

Jinyoung took another sip and put his drink down to the table. To his side, he looked over the edge of the banister into the mob of bodies. Only a few dancing, most were simply swaying to the rhythm of the music. His eyes caught on a flash of white in the dark crowd. A bright white muscle shirt that was too wide in the neck so that its owner’s collarbones glinted with sweat under the lights and haze of the club. White was his smile that shown bright. An unforgettable smile that looked eager to forget. Mark.

Jinyoung tried to pull his eyes away but Mark danced so freely that he found his eyes following him. The boy’s eyes were closed and his head was tilting back, the beads of sweat on his neck shimmering in the lights. Jinyoung licked his lips before taking another sip and realizing that all he had was ice.

The song ended and Mark’s eyes opened and scanned the room. Jinyoung didn’t react fast enough and their eyes met. He turned away, keeping his back to the banister. He felt the jump of his heart rate and a guilty heat creep up his back of his neck. He pulled out his phone, trying to act busy. 

“Jinyoung” he heard a voice call out and his ears immediately burned. He turned slowly and saw Mark coming up to his table, placing his drink down and putting his chin in his hands. “We should really stop running into each other like this,” Mark smiled.

Mark’s damp hair was piecey in his bright eyes. Jinyoung registered them with a single look before darting his eyes away. He felt his blood rushing and he looked around for Youngjae cautiously, “What are you doing here?” He tried to keep his voice casual.

“Not my idea. Yugyeom and Bambam dragged me out,” Mark shook his head and took another sip. Jinyoung could tell he was a little more goofy than usual but not the drunk Mark he had seen on New Year’s Eve. “They said one more drink about three drinks ago.”

“Sounds like them,” Jinyoung nodded. “Say what you will but they do a great job preserving the college experience for you.”

“I don’t keep them around for the intellectual discussions,” Mark smiled.

Jinyoung laughed. He could feel himself falling back into the comfortable banter they always had. He tried futility to catch himself, trying to remind himself what happened last time, but Mark’s presence tended to shift his perspective.

“How have things been?” Mark stared on sweetly.

Jinyoung nodded. “Busy.

Mark tutted. “You always say that. I’m starting to not believe you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Jinyoung said before thinking. He heard the flirt of his voice. He bit his tongue, punishing himself.

Mark’s eyes glimmered momentarily. He looked around. “Hey,” he said, over the music. “Can I ask a favor?”

Jinyoung’s mouth was dry and he would have done anything for another drink. “What?”

“Can you help me find Yugyeom and Bam? I need to get some homework done and they are my ride,” Mark shrugged.

Jinyoung looked around again, not spotting Youngjae. “As your teacher, I feel like it’s my duty to help you prioritize your studies.”

Mark rolled his eyes with a smile. “Come on,” he beckoned. “I saw them on the dance floor last.”

Jinyoung pulled out his phone as he started to follow Mark.

 _Where are you?_ He texted Youngjae.

Jinyoung and Mark slipped through the crowd of people, feeling the heat and humidity envelope everything. The heaviness of the cigarette smoke made his brain feel hazy.

Jinyoung looked around, careful to not get too close to the swaying bodies around him. He grabbed Mark’s arm and got close to him. “I don’t see them,” Jinyoung called into his ear.

“Bathroom, maybe?” Mark shrugged. The two of them weaved towards the bathroom sign, throwing open the door. Mark surveyed the empty stalls. “They aren’t here,” he said, defeated.

Jinyoung was leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. The music of the club pulsing against his back. “Let’s check the bar then,” he craned his head towards the door.

Mark didn’t respond but went to the mirror, leaning himself over the sink. The muscles of his built shoulders were visible through the dampness of his thin white shirt as he braced himself against the edge. “You know you’ve been avoiding even looking my way, right?” not looking to Jinyoung but instead appraising himself in the mirror. “Ain’t much to look at, I guess,” he tilted his head upwards as he scrutinized. His hair was still a bit damp from dancing and it clung to the concaves of his neck, making Jinyoung’s throat feel even more desperate for another drink.

“Stop,” Jinyoung murmured low and dark. He himself unsure of if he meant that Mark should stop belittling himself or taunting him.

“Why should I?” Mark asked, narrowing his eyes towards Jinyoung in the mirror. His stare was almost angry, challenging. His hand absentmindedly tugged at the collar of his shirt, exposing more and more of the smooth skin of his chest.

Jinyoung jolted forward, grabbing for Mark’s hips and turning him around before pinning him against the sink and ducking downward to invade his airspace. He closed his eyes tightly and, like muscle memory, found Mark’s lips with his own. The kiss wasn’t light and soft like it was at New Year’s Eve but eager and greedy as he nipped for Mark’s lips.

There didn’t seem to be that moment of surprise like there was last time. Instead, Mark reacted immediately with rivaling intensity. His hands instantly combing through Jinyoung’s hair and settling on the back of his neck, not letting him go.

Jinyoung’s fingers felt desperately for skin, finding their way to Mark’s back and slipping under the loose fabric of his shirt, sensing the humidity and feeling the need to claw at every inch of him.

Mark backed him against the wall, the empty paper towel dispenser shaking at the impact. He pulled Jinyoung’s hair slightly, listening to him hiss through his teeth, to get better access to his neck. He hovered above his skin. “You like me, right?” Mark’s voice was low in his ear, breath ghosting over every sensitive spot on Jinyoung’s neck and making him feel like he would pass out at any moment.

His eyes were screwed shut but he was nodding frantically.

“Say it.”

“I like you,” Jinyoung breathed out. “I like you,” he repeated and kept repeating and each time he felt higher and higher.

He felt Mark smiling as he finally dove in to kiss his neck, gently grazing his teeth against his skin.

And it was like Jinyoung could finally breathe. This big, looming secret that had been weighing on his chest for so long was finally free. And he should have felt wrong about it. Should have been shaken with guilt. But his head was being frenzied by a million other thoughts. All of them revolving around Mark.

Mark’s hand found the space between Jinyoung’s legs, touching him softly at first and increasing the pressure.

Jinyoung was overwhelmed with a need for everything to happen at once. It was more than just immediacy. He needed Mark instantaneously.

But somewhere in the midst of all those feelings, the subtle reminder of where they were and who could be around pushed through. His eyes snapped open and he pushed against Mark’s chest hard, gasping.

Mark looked up, his eyes wide and begging the question of why he stopped. A bit of annoyance somewhere in his look.

“We need to get to your place,” Jinyoung rushed out.

Mark’s eyes shifted in realization. He nodded once before grabbing Jinyoung’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

As he was being pulled away, Jinyoung caught his reflection in the mirror. And in the glimpse, he couldn’t see any of himself.

\---

It had been an agonizing subway ride. The train car leading to Mark’s apartment was packed and, as it snaked along the track, their hips and shoulders kept brushing together. It didn’t help that Mark was holding his stare with dark eyes. Jinyoung was struggling to keep his hands to himself. As they ascended the stairs of Mark’s station, he grabbed Jinyoung’s hand again and ran with him. The night air was bitter cold and small piles of snow dotted the messy streets.

Mark pushed open the door to his apartment, not bothering with the lights. He dropped his keys on the counter before turning to Jinyoung and grabbing his hand to pull him over the threshold. They both toed off their shoes at the door and shrugged off their heavy coats.

Jinyoung looked around. The corner studio wasn’t much. A simple kitchen with outdated appliances against one wall, a bed centered in the living space, a small table with two chairs on the opposite side, a door leading to a supposed bathroom near that. The walls were a blank white which reflected as a blue grey in the darkness. Books were stacked in piles against the wall. Outside, a streetlight filtered yellow light through the out of shape blinds. A late-night noraebang sign flickered. Not so distantly, the lights of Lotte Tower sparkled in multicolor shapes.

Mark pulled Jinyoung closer to the bed, sitting him down before pulling his shirt over his head.

Jinyoung felt himself shaking. His teeth chattered with nerves. But he willed himself to relax, reaching out to touch Mark in all the places he could. The feeling of Mark’s skin was akin to something familiar. The back of his arms, the insides of his elbows, the rise of his shoulder blades. So soft. Like the feeling of book paper that was humid from the rain.

They didn’t speak as Jinyoung leaned back, letting Mark crawl on top of him. Their mouths found each other in the darkness and they kissed softly. Their tongues moving together. Not with haste, like in the club, but delicately. Jinyoung felt his brows crinkling together as they kissed. Like he may cry from happiness. Mark sat in his lap, grinding his hips against him softly.

He pulled Mark’s shirt over his head. The smell of the smoky club emanating from his tousled hair. Jinyoung felt like he should say something but out of the million words piling up in his head, none of them felt right. So he tried to convey them in other ways. Every finger and every kiss trying desperately to communicate that which couldn’t be said. How long he had wanted this. How badly he had wanted this. Despite everything.

And Mark must have understood because when Jinyoung pulled away to look at him, he just nodded and whispered out a warm, “I know.”

Which just made him want to kiss Mark harder. So he did and kept kissing him, feeling themselves getting hard against each other. Jinyoung’s fingers ran through his blonde hair.

Mark pushed him up onto the bed. His hand ran down his chest and palmed him over his jeans. Jinyoung felt the blood rushing downwards, making him increasingly sensitive and light-headed. He bucked his hips up toward Mark, trying desperately to get any contact he could.

Mark worked open his pants and delved his hand below his waistband, feeling him roughly.

Jinyoung whimpered, his eyebrows crinkling together in want.

Mark pulled his hand out, grabbing onto the sides of Jinyoung’s jeans and shimmying them down. Jinyoung lifted his hips, desperate to feel the chill of Mark’s bedroom against every inch of his skin.

Once his pants were cast aside, Mark’s hands were everywhere. Feeling how hard he was and sliding back towards his entrance, tauntingly grazing his fingertips over it.

Jinyoung left out a moan before regaining his composure. He flipped Mark, immediately feeling for his belt buckle. Making quick work of it with one hand while reaching to graze his teeth and lips against Mark’s neck, sure it would leave a mark. He growled into the boy’s ear, “Off.”

Mark complied, shoving his pants off and kicking them off the edge of the bed.

And God, Jinyoung pulled away, taking a second to look at him. Really look at him. His pale skin was practically glowing in the low light. His eyes had that same electricity and confidence and passion that Jinyoung had only caught in passing. His body was all harsh angles and every contour was an uncharted land that Jinyoung was dying to inhabit. “You’re so beautiful,” Jinyoung whispered out, not even realizing it until Mark’s teeth were glowing back in a dreamy smile.

“Don’t stop now,” Mark huffed, putting a hand behind his head.

Jinyoung smirked. “Where’s your lube?”

Mark bit his lip and leaned towards his nightstand, opening the drawer and tossing a bottle towards Jinyoung. He caught it, squeezing it into his hand.

“What are you going to do with that?” Mark asked, his smile reaching from his lips to his eyes.

“Exactly what you want me to do,” Jinyoung murmured. He reached his fingertips towards Mark’s entrance, circling it.

Mark stretched his hips downward, eager.

Jinyoung slid a finger into him, eliciting a sharp hiss. He worked it slowly, feeling Mark open up around him. He watched his face, eyes closed in pleasure. He slid in another finger and Mark arched his back towards him. Manipulating his hips up and down, trying to fuck himself against Jinyoung’s hand.

And Jinyoung could only take this sight for a few more moments before he was pulling his fingers out and eagerly coating himself in lube. He positioned himself between Mark’s legs, looking up into his eyes for confirmation. Not thinking about anything at all except how badly he needed this.

Mark reached a hand around Jinyoung’s neck, pulling him down and kissing him firmly. He pulled away and looked into his eyes before giving a sharp nod.

Jinyoung thrust into him and they both moaned in unison. English curse words fell from Mark’s mouth and Jinyoung had never heard anything sweeter.

Jinyoung pulled himself out and pushed back in, creating a rhythm that started slow, but steadily increased. He was reeling at the way Mark felt around him. Mark’s hand combed over his own body, reaching down to touch himself. The boy started stroking himself in time with Jinyoung’s thrusts.

And while it was the hottest thing Jinyoung had ever seen, he wanted desperately for it to be him. He smacked Mark’s hand away and replaced it with his own.

Mark’s hands fell to the sheets, gripping them in fistfuls. He grabbed Jinyoung’s neck again, flipping them once more.

Jinyoung looked up as Mark rode him, breathless. He could see the glint of sweat collecting along his chest. He kept pumping him as he rode. The pressure growing too intense.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered, in awe. And as Mark’s body slammed down against him, he came undone, letting out a deafening moan he didn’t even know he could produce.

And even though he was coming, Mark didn’t slow down. He just continued riding him. But Jinyoung could read his face and knew he was just as close. He sat himself up, straining his arm to pump Mark harder.

“Holy shit,” Mark whimpered. “Fuc-.” He gave one long whine as he came, covering Jinyoung’s hand.

Mark collapsed against Jinyoung’s chest. They were both heaving. Mark pushed himself up with his arms, looking into Jinyoung’s eyes. His chest moving up and down in time with Jinyoung’s. His smile was bright and Jinyoung could only match it with his own.

Mark kissed him and though the session was over, the kiss still radiated passion.

Jinyoung kissed him back as he shifted him to his side, letting him lay his head against the same pillow.

Mark pulled away, opening his eyes and staring into his. And they just settled like that for a while. As if they were content in laying that way forever.

Mark drew in a deep breath. “Will you stay?” his eyelashes growing heavier by the moment. “Tonight?”

Jinyoung’s brain, which usually was overwhelmed by thoughts, was consumed only with Mark. On the high that he gave him. And there wasn’t anything in the world that could have stopped him in that moment. “Yeah,” he smiled. “I’ll stay.”

\---

Jinyoung’s eyes fluttered open to harsh daylight. Everything around him was white. He squinted, trying to adjust. His ears perked to the sound of an electric kettle bubbling. He sat himself up slowly, guiding his eyes towards the sound.

He squinted one eye open. Mark was turned towards the kitchen counter. His back was bare. A wide expanse of porcelain leading down to grey sweatpants. Jinyoung’s ears adjusted and he could hear the sound of Mark humming something barely audible. He poured the hot water into mugs, giving them a stir. The sound of the metal spoon against the ceramic ringing through the apartment.

Mark carefully took each mug and turned back towards the bed. He looked up at Jinyoung. “Oh,” his eyebrows went up. “Good morning.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Morning.”

“I made some coffee,” Mark raised the mugs, sliding across the bed and handing one to Jinyoung.

“Thank you,” he graciously took it with both hands, blowing at the steaming surface.

“Last night….” Mark stopped himself, back tracking. “Well, how did you sleep?”

Jinyoung took a greedy sip. “Great.”

“What would you…” Mark’s voice trailed off for a moment. “I mean, today, maybe we could take a walk around Seokchon Lake. Or grab some brunch. I know a good spot near Jamsilsaenae.”

Jinyoung licked his lips, looking down into his coffee. “I’ve gotta go,” he shook his head. “I was with a friend last night. He’ll be wondering where I went.”

“Oh,” Mark held in a breath. “Right.” He felt at the back of his neck.

Jinyoung took another sip of his coffee. It was cheap and watered down but he didn’t care. It was Mark’s and, even without the cover of night, everything about Mark was still perfect.

Mark licked his lips, looking down at the bed. Jinyoung could tell he was thinking. Choosing his words carefully. “Should I… expect you to disappear again?”

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung asked, knowing fully what he meant but needing more time to formulate a response.

Mark sighed, still avoiding eye contact. “Last night was great,” he started. “And I know you felt it too.” He tapped his fingers against his mug, pursing his lip. “But I want to see you again. I’d rather know now if you are planning on ghosting me.”

Jinyoung took another sip of coffee, feeling the caffeine start to hit. Between that and the serious tone of the conversation, his head was beginning to feel lighter than it should. “I,” he struggled to form the words. He shouldn’t see Mark again. Seeing Mark again contradicted everything that Jinyoung stood for. It compromised his relationship, his stability, his sanity. There wasn’t one person on the planet who would have honestly said that seeing Mark again was a good idea.

And yet, last night happened. And Jinyoung had felt it. Felt how free he felt. How blissfully alive he was. He had seen how beautiful Mark was; both inside and out. And though he wanted to say that one time was enough. That he was satisfied. That he had explored Mark fully and could finally move on with his life, he wasn’t satisfied. He was only craving more.

“I wanna see you again,” Jinyoung felt himself say.

Mark looked up, his eyes questioning.

Jinyoung nodded. “Really.”

“Then you’ll need this,” Mark got up, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. “What’s your kakao?”

Jinyoung huffed a laugh, grabbing the phone from him and typing in his ID. “Here,” he said, handing it back. “Keep in touch.”

Mark took back his phone and looked up at him. God, he was breathtaking. His blonde hair and his collarbones glinting off the white walls and the white light. Jinyoung wished he could exist in this moment forever.

“I should go,” he said, a corner of his mouth tugging upward.

“You probably should,” Mark agreed.

Jinyoung put his mug back down on the nightstand, getting up from his spot on the bed. He felt Mark’s eyes watching him. He found his jeans near the foot of his bed and pulled them on. His sweater was nearby, turned inside out. He flipped it around, looking back to Mark who watched him with curious eyes.

“What?” he laughed.

“You’re just…” Mark sighed. “even better in the morning light.”

Jinyoung felt a blush creeping over his cheeks. He pulled the sweater over his head and hopped toward the door, pulling on his boots.

Mark got up, meeting him at the door. “Don’t be a stranger,” he said.

Jinyoung nodded. “I won’t.”

They smiled at each other before Mark leaned himself forward. He craned his head and Jinyoung closed his eyes, meeting his lips with his own. Kissing him sweetly, softly. Feeling the heat coming off of Mark’s bare chest.

He pulled away. Taking a deep breath in. “See you soon.”

Mark smiled, “See you soon.”

And with that Jinyoung was out his door and out of his mind infatuated.

\---

Jinyoung had read about infidelity in countless novels. He had heard the songs. He had watched movies. And yet somehow, media didn’t get it right. Characters who cheated were supposed to feel guilt-ridden. They were supposed to spend their days dragging around their secrets. They were supposed to not be able to look their partner in the eye in fear that the secrets would spill out.

But Jinyoung didn’t feel like that at all.

He felt light as a feather. Like a high-flying balloon that couldn’t lose its gusto. And even when he returned home that morning, he didn’t feel the need to cower away from Jaebeom. In fact, he fell back into his arms as soon as he arrived home.

“What happened last night?” Jaebeom had smiled at him, smoothing the hair against his head.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes, “Someone got a bit too fucked up. And it wasn’t me.”

“Ah,” Jaebeom tutted. “Youngjae. That boy needs to learn how to slow down.”

“You’re telling me,” Jinyoung raised his eyebrows.

“You need to take care of him,” Jaebeom said. “He’s your dongsaeng. He relies on you.”

Jinyoung inhaled through his teeth. “I don’t know about that.”

“Remember when that jerk from Jeju broke his heart and up and left him in the middle of the night? You were the only one there for him.”

Jinyoung sighed, remembering how he woke up to Youngjae’s sobs. How the boy couldn’t go to class for three weeks. How Jinyoung had to sleep by his side for two months. How much weight he lost from not eating.

Jaebeom continued. “He puts on this brave face like he doesn’t care about anything. Like people are objects to him. But it’s just a wall for him. He’s just scared of getting heartbroken again.” Jaebeom pondered out loud. “He’s a great guy. Sweet and soft and strong and talented. Anyone would be lucky to have him. But he needs the right one. Someone who will think the world of him.”

“I know,” Jinyoung nodded. “I don’t deserve to call him my friend.”

Jaebeom scoffed. “You’re both lucky to have each other. And I’m lucky to have you.”

\---

It was the next week when Jinyoung heard a knock at his office door. When he looked up, Mark was standing in the doorway. His hair was swept back in a beanie and he was wearing a zipped-up bomber and jeans. The tip of his nose was slightly red from the cold.

Jinyoung felt transported to last semester. To feeling torn. To feeling that growing sweetness that he exuded. To wanting to taste it. But he had to remind himself that he had tasted Mark. And that he tasted sweeter than he could have ever imagined.

“Professor Park,” Mark said with feigned caution.

Jinyoung grinned. “Don’t flatter me.” He couldn’t help but think how different the honorific sounded in Mark’s mouth versus Jaebeom’s.

“I just wanted to see how you were today.” Mark sat down in the seat across from him but scooted himself forward till his forearms were resting against the edge of his desk.

“I’m good,” Jinyoung leaned forward, grabbing Mark’s hand and letting it slip through his fingers. “Better now.”

“Is your day boring without me?” Mark looked on sweetly.

Jinyoung nodded, feeling dizzy under his gaze.

Mark smiled, big and genuine. “I could maybe spark it up.”

Jinyoung’s eyes went slightly confused, his brows creasing together.

Mark leaned back in his chair, standing up and going to the door. After it was shut, he moved to the window and pulled the blinds down, twisting them close.

Jinyoung laid back in his chair, his mind reeling. Feeling like this was a dream he’d wake up from at any moment. He thought about the offices outside his. He tried to calculate the time and how many of them were likely empty. He tried to think about the height of the sun in the sky and if you’d be able to see in from the green below. “Are you insane?” he cut through the thoughts.

Mark shrugged, his eyes bright, “Maybe.” He crossed over to him, straddling his lap. His eyes looked confident and wild. “Have you let anyone fuck you in this office?”

Jinyoung felt heat crawling up this neck, infecting his cheeks and ears. His heartbeat skyrocketed. “No,” he dared to look up into Mark’s eyes.

“Well,” Mark mused. He hovered his face over Jinyoung’s lips, breathing hot air against them. “Don’t you think it’s about time?”

It was barely a millisecond till Jinyoung was closing the space between them and kissing Mark feverishly. His hands moved up to his neck, feeling every soft surface between his shoulders and his ears. Their teeth clicked together in the frenzy and Mark nipped at his upper lip. The blood roared in his ears as he could feel it rushing down to pool in his lap.

He moved his hands into Mark’s hair, pushing the beanie to the floor. His fingertips tugging at the blonde strands until his neck was craning backwards, exposing long planes of skin for Jinyoung to devour. He gritted his teeth against the skin, feeling the hard meet the soft. Through Mark’s skin, he could feel the silent whimpers falling from his lips.

He gripped at the zipper of Mark’s jacket, slowly beginning to pull it downward. But Mark grabbed his hand and pushed it down faster, eager and willing. Jinyoung pulled away, looking upon Mark’s body. As he unzipped his jacket, he saw the swathes of paper skin it unveiled. It took him a moment to realize that Mark wasn’t wearing anything under the jacket. And the thought alone had him releasing a low moan.

Mark put a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he whispered. “Don’t let anyone hear you.” Mark got up off his lap. “Get up,” he called, in English.

Jinyoung complied easily, his hands chasing Mark’s hips. He pushed him against the bookshelf, feeling it sway slightly against their weight. He licked into Mark’s mouth, tasting the smug smile he was wearing. His hands went up to feel the skin on his chest, moving up towards his shoulders to push the jacket off.

Mark flipped them and Jinyoung felt the bookshelf sway again. Mark’s hand smoothed itself over Jinyoung’s hardness, massaging him through his trousers. Jinyoung barely remembered not to moan, tucking the sound back so that all he gave out was a heavy breath into Mark’s open mouth.

Mark’s hands reached for Jinyoung’s buckle, slowly undoing it as he kissed him.

Jinyoung felt his hips buck eagerly, his head feeling dizzier and dizzier.

Mark pulled away, looking him in the eyes. Jinyoung watched in slow motion as Mark went down on one knee and then the other, maintaining his eye contact. Mark untucked Jinyoung from his pants, holding him firmly with one hand. He opened his mouth, running his tongue against the head slowly, watching his face.

Jinyoung watched the way Mark’s teeth and tongue shined wet in the bright fluorescent lights of the office. He swallowed hard.

Mark took him in his mouth. Jinyoung could feel all the heat encircle him and his legs struggled to keep from buckling. His head fell backward against the bookshelf momentarily before he regained control and looked down at Mark. He watched him moving against him, felt his tongue twirling over him with precision. The sight was otherworldly. He could feel the pressure growing as Mark quickened his pace. One of his hands circling around him in sequence with his mouth, the other snaking between his legs to rub small circles into his entrance. The mixture of sensations left Jinyoung breathless.

Mark pulled off of him, earning an inaudible whine from Jinyoung. Mark fisted his shirt, pulling him forward and then dropping him against the desk. He braced himself against it, ducking his head low and kissing him hard.

Jinyoung tongued his way into his mouth, tasting his precum on Mark’s lips. Distantly, he could hear the unzipping of Mark’s pants which perked his ears.

He felt Mark’s hand return to his thighs, pushing his trousers down towards his knees. He felt his fingers graze his inner thigh before returning themselves to his entrance. Jinyoung became aware of how slick they were and couldn’t help but wonder when Mark had managed to lubricate them. Mark worked one finger in at a time, but Jinyoung was already stretched with anticipation.

Mark pulled away. Jinyoung lifted himself onto his forearms, getting a better look at Mark. He was shirtless and he was undoing the fly of his pants. He pulled a small bottle of lube from his pocket and poured it into his hand. He ran it over himself, coating every inch with a twist of his hand, and Jinyoung watched, feeling warm.

Mark looked up at him, his eyes a mixture of heavy and light. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. They both knew how bad they wanted each other. He pulled himself closer to Jinyoung, lining him up before sliding into him.

Jinyoung momentarily lost his breath and he could see the rise and fall of his chest intensifying from where he lay. He felt Mark inside him, felt his hands resting against his hips. Saw the strain of his chest and biceps when he pulled Jinyoung closer, sliding deeper into him.

Mark gasped, letting his head roll back briefly. His hands gripped harder and he began to slam himself into Jinyoung with brute force.

Jinyoung felt every slam, felt it opening him up more and more. His legs widening and trying to let Mark get as deep as possible. He fell back, looking up at the lights, blinded. He throbbed with pleasure and he snaked his hand down to pump himself.

When he looked back to Mark, he was watching him touch himself, increasing his rhythm with fervor. Jinyoung noticed Mark’s breaths getting shorter and his thrusts getting less coordinated. He pulled the boy down by his neck, kissing him roughly and muffling his whines with his mouth. The whines got higher and higher and the thrusts got messier and messier until he could feel Mark coming inside him.

Mark didn’t rest for a moment before he was pulling away and kneeling down again to take Jinyoung in his mouth.

Jinyoung gasped as Mark moved against him swiftly. His core tightening and his hands flying into Mark’s blonde locks. His fingers smoothed against his jawline, feeling his lower lip as it moved against him. And this feeling connected that this was Mark going down on him like his life depended on it. And that sudden rush of awareness, of who was doing it, of where they were doing it, was enough to push Jinyoung over the edge. His body trembled against the desk, his hands gripping the wood clumsily. He came forcefully into Mark’s mouth.

Mark slowed, pulling off of him and standing up. Jinyoung looked at him. His shirt off, his pants undone, a small dribble at the edge of his mouth. He saw the bob of his throat as he swallowed.

Jinyoung pulled himself up, grabbing onto Mark and drawing him toward him. He ducked close to his face. He ran his tongue deftly over the dribble on Mark’s face, tasting the mixture of himself against Mark’s skin. Thinking it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. “Fuck,” he scoffed in his ear. “You’ll be the death of me, Mark Tuan.”

He didn’t have to look at Mark’s face to know he was smiling. And that’s when Jinyoung knew that this office would never be the same again.

\---

There were three more weeks of this. Of Jinyoung working late on every surface of Mark’s apartment. Exploring his body. Falling deeper into his smile.

Luckily, Jinyoung’s house was empty most of the time. Jaebeom had been working late because of his busy season. Fourteen hour days, Monday through Saturday, where he would come home only to sleep. He was too exhausted to ask questions. Heck, he didn’t even ask how Jinyoung’s days were. And Jinyoung couldn’t help but think how convenient it was.

It was Saturday afternoon and Jinyoung was laying in Mark’s bed. Mark’s eyes fixed on the wall, unfocused.

“Hey,” Jinyoung grabbed his cheek and looked deep into his eyes. “What’s up with you today?”

“Hm?” Mark blinked. His hand flew to cover Jinyoung’s, moving it down to his chest and cradling it against his heart.

“You’ve been acting distant,” Jinyoung furrowed his brow with concern. “Is everything alright?”

Mark didn’t breathe for a moment. “Yeah. It’s just…” he paused, licking his lips. “It’s my mom’s birthday today.”

Jinyoung felt his shoulders drop. “You must miss her a lot,” Jinyoung said, not able to imagine how it felt to be so far from home.

Mark nodded holding something in his throat. “Most days I’m okay.” He took a moment. “But then there are days like this. When I can’t help but think about what they are doing. How they are celebrating. Without me.”

Jinyoung paused. “Why did you really move here?” he said. “And don’t just say you were bored.”

Mark’s hand knit together, his whole demeanor shifting to something more nervous. His eyes scanned the floor, thinking hard. He seemed to be weighing things in his mind. “When I was in my senior year of high school,” Mark started. “I got a full ride scholarship to Stanford to study law. Everything was taken care of and my parents couldn’t have been prouder.”

Jinyoung felt a knot in his stomach tightening in anticipation.

“But during my second year,” Mark’s speech slowed down as he chose his words carefully. “I got a call that my little brother had been hit by a drunk driver and that he was in the hospital.” He took a deep breath. “And I rushed down to LA as fast as my car would drive me, but I wasn’t fast enough. He was gone by the time I got there.”

Jinyoung felt his stomach drop. He sat up, putting a hand to Mark’s knee instinctively.

Mark covered Jinyoung’s hand with his own, acknowledging the support before moving on. “I just didn’t know how to handle it and I panicked. That night, I was just sitting on his bed in my parent’s house, just a total mess. I took the globe on his shelf down.” His eyes glazed over with a fresh coat tears. “When we were kids, we would play this game where we would spin it and close our eyes and let our finger find a random place just to see where we would land. So, I did it. And I landed on Korea. And in the middle of the night, I left for the airport with a carry on of clothes and some money saved up.”

Jinyoung’s head spun. “What about your family?”

Mark licked his lips. “I haven’t spoken to them,” he said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. At first, I just didn’t want to speak to anyone. But as time went by, I just didn’t know what to say. It felt easier to just fade into nothing.”

Jinyoung understood. “Do Yugyeom and Bambam know?” he spoke after a while.

“Bits and pieces. They occasionally manage to get bits of it from me. I don’t think they know the full story though. Or if they do, they are too polite to mention it,” Mark smiled a little to himself, sadly.

“Come here,” Jinyoung said and hugged him tightly. His head instinctively fitting into the crane of his neck. Smelling his scent. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I trust you,” Mark said softly. “More than I’ve trusted anyone since moving here.”

Jinyoung felt the hair on his neck stand up, a hot pang of guilt washing over him. He didn’t have a response to that.

\---

It was the next week and Jinyoung got to his office a bit later than usual after a meeting with his advisor. He breathed a sigh of relief when there were no students waiting outside for him. He opened the door and was met with a splash of loud color in his otherwise grey office. Bright yellow sunflowers sat in a vase, accented with lavender. The scent could be smelled from the doorway and the flowers were so bright, that Jinyoung felt all the other color drain from the world momentarily.

He stepped forward, feeling around for the card that was tucked into the vase.

_Of all the things my hands have held, the best, by far, is you. Happy Valentine’s Day._

The smile pulled at his lips. He took a seat at his desk and he whipped out his phone, dialing Jaebeom’s number.

“Hello?” he heard him on the other side.

“Babe,” he started. “You really didn’t have to. A card would have sufficed. I didn’t even get you anything cause I thought we said we weren’t going to do anything this year. We are saving for the wedding, right?”

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom sighed. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re so funny,” Jinyoung laughed. “Why do you always play dumb?”

He heard Jaebeom sigh into the receiver. “No, really. I don’t know what you mean.”

“The flowers!” Jinyoung laughed.

“What flowers?”

Jinyoung heard a knock at his office door. He looked up to see Mark in the window, waving to him and smiling wide. His heart sank.

“Oh, babe,” he said, keeping his eyes locked on Mark. “I just saw the card. They are for the office next door. I’m such an idiot.”

He heard Jaebeom laugh after a moment. “You scared me for a minute! I thought you had a secret admirer or something.”

Mark came in, shrugging off his jacket. He took a seat, propping a leg over the armrest as he leaned back comfortably.

“No, no,” Jinyoung rushed. “Everything’s fine. I have office hours, can I talk to you later?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jaebeom assured. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

“Same,” Jinyoung murmured before hanging up and looking into Mark’s face.

“So,” Mark’s voice edged on cocky. “Do you like them?”

Jinyoung couldn’t help but smile, letting his fingers reach up and touch the petals of the bouquet. “I love them,” he nodded. “But you really didn’t have to.”

Mark shrugged. “It was a good way to start this conversation.”

“What conversation?” Jinyoung looked up, confused.

Mark smirked and sat forward, letting his knees lean against Jinyoung’s desk and reaching out to grab his hand. “Jinyoung,” he said. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you over the last few weeks. I swear, you make me feel as bright as those flowers.”

Jinyoung felt heat coursing up and down his arm where Mark touched him. Part of him wanted to pull away with the fear of someone seeing them and part of him wanted to melt into Mark’s touch.

“And as much as I love hooking up with you in all the private corners of your world, I’d like to hook up with you in the public ones as well,” he smiled.

Jinyoung tried to laugh but it came out all choked and he started coughing. “Mark,” his shoulders sank.

Mark’s eyes dulled microscopically.

Jinyoung’s mouth hung open. Unable to speak. “I…” he forced out. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Mark’s face dropped. He sat back slowly. “This, again?” he raised an eyebrow.

Jinyoung shook his head. “Look. You know I like you.”

“But?” Mark crossed his arms over his chest.

“But I…” Jinyoung struggled. “I’m not interested in an… official relationship.”

Mark’s face went sour. “You’re really making me work for it, aren’t you?”

Jinyoung laughed. “I’m not trying to. I’m just trying to be fair.”

Mark got up. Scratching his ear and sighing before pulling on his jacket.

“Where are you going?”

He looked back at him. His eyes not all there. “Maybe just call me after you’ve looked up the definition for fair,” he forced the corners of his lips up before reaching for the door and only slightly slamming it on his way out.

\---

Jinyoung’s head was pounding as he walked from the station to his apartment. The image of Mark’s eyes, detached and dejected, clouded his mind. When he opened the door to the apartment, Jaebeom was coming out of the bedroom, pulling a t-shirt on over his broad chest.

“Hey, babe,” he smiled and let his arms move around Jinyoung. “Jackson lost a bet and had to take on one of my new clients, so I managed to get off a bit earlier today. How was your day?”

Jinyoung let himself be hugged, dropping his head against Jaebeom’s chest with a sigh. “Long,” he said, simply.

“Well,” Jaebeom pulled away, grabbing at the strap of Jinyoung’s bag and placing it to the side. “Before you get too comfortable, let’s go grab some dinner. You hungry?”

“Starving,” Jinyoung smiled, looking up into Jaebeom’s face.

“Come on. Let’s go to that beef place at the corner.”

Soon, they were surrounded by the smell and the heat of barbeques and Jinyoung was overly fixated on making sure the food was cooking properly.

“This semester has been super rough on you,” Jaebeom said, wrapping another ssam together in his hand.

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung flipped the meat over again.

“I feel like I never see you anymore,” Jaebeom shrugged and put his food in his mouth in one big bite.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung shrugged. “I’m sorry. It’s been busier than I expected. I can’t help thinking that I bit off more than I can chew.” He threw a piece of meat onto his plate.

Jaebeom shook his head, swallowing. “Don’t think about it like that. It’s an opportunity to show how hard you can work. If you just put your head down for the next few months, you’re going to get it done. You just need to be honest with yourself and check in if you are struggling.”

Jinyoung nodded. “I know.”

Jaebeom set down his utensils, reaching out to grab his fiancé’s hand. “I’m okay with being put on the back burner for a little while. I trust you and I love you and I know that once you finish this thing, it will make our relationship that much stronger. I just need you to keep me in the loop. I don’t like worrying about you.”

Jinyoung looked down to their hands, feeling the familiarity of Jaebeom’s palm. “I know,” he said. “I’ll do better with that.”

They finished their meal and returned home. Jaebeom suggested they watch a movie and after bickering for fifteen minutes about which they wanted to watch, they settled on the couch.

Jaebeom’s arm was snaked around Jinyoung, his fingertips rubbing gently against his leg. He couldn’t help but feel like this notch in Jaebeom’s side was made for him. He felt his eyes growing heavier and himself sinking deeper into the feeling of safety. The feeling that only Jaebeom could give him.

His phone began to ring and he violently pulled himself up, causing Jaebeom to jolt as well. Jinyoung got up and looked at the phone. Seeing who it was.

“It’s Youngjae,” Jinyoung sighed. It wasn’t Youngjae. “Let me just take this and I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want me to pause it?” Jaebeom offered, holding the remote.

“Nah, you’re good.”

He walked himself to the kitchen, swiping open his phone. “Hello?” Jinyoung answered. His voice just barely above a whisper.

“So rude,” Mark slurred into the phone. Sounding distant and then too close. “You’re so rude.”

Jinyoung sighed. His blood starting to rush.

“God. I try so hard,” Mark continued without encouragement, audible liquor lacing every syllable. “I fucked you so good. And still-”

“Where are you?” Jinyoung asked. His words coming out slow and hard.

“On the corner of desperate and heartbroken,” he laughed. “As if you could ever find your way there.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung spoke clearly into the receiver, trying to keep his voice down. “Tell me where you are.”

“Why should I?” he spat.

“Mark,” Jinyoung warned with a venomous finality.

Mark scoffed. “The bar outside Jamsilsanae station. Exit 4,” he surrendered.

“Wait for me,” Jinyoung said before hanging up. “Babe,” he shouted towards the living room. “I need to borrow your car real quick.”

Jaebeom turned towards him on the couch, his face drawing up in disgust. “What? Why?”

Jinyoung pursed his lips. “Youngjae is drunk at some bar and needs a ride home. He’s having a rough day.”

“Aish,” Jaebeom shook his head. “Does that boy ever get a break?” He nodded. “Keys are on the counter. Be careful. I’ve seen you drive.”

Jinyoung grabbed the keys, planting a kiss on Jaebeom’s temple before he was out the front door.

\---

Jinyoung found Mark outside the bar, sitting on a ledge and swinging his legs like a kid. He pulled up and rolled down the window.

“Mark,” he called. “Come on.”

“No,” Mark huffed. “Why should I?”

Jinyoung’s shoulders dropped with frustration. “I’ll feed you. Just get in.”

Mark considered this for a minute before getting himself up and getting in the car. “It better be McDonalds.”

“Whatever you want,” Jinyoung agreed and started driving away. “Put your seatbelt on.”

“Ugh,” Mark resisted. “Why are you trying to act like my boyfriend all of a sudden?”

“I’m not,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I’m just…” his voice trailed off and he decided to stop talking.

They sat parked after having three people’s worth of food for Mark delivered to their location.

“I’m sorry about this,” Jinyoung spoke over the crinkling of burger wrappers, unable to look at Mark.

“You should be,” Mark scowled with food in his mouth. “I’ve worked so hard to try and please you. I’ve done everything I can to prove that I’m worth your time. And you,” he swallowed loudly. “With your perfect hair and your perfect smile and your perfect brain, keep shutting me down every single time. Despite the fact that you are absurdly attracted to me.”

Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. “That wording is a bit strong, don’t you think?”

“Not with the way you kiss me,” Mark shook his head. “Just be honest. Please,” he grabbed at Jinyoung’s arm. “What am I doing wrong? Just tell me. I can fix it, I swear.” His eyes were desperate.

Jinyoung felt his nerves rushing under the touch, as if it was giving him a bit of contact drunk. Looking up, the stare of Mark’s eyes was unyielding and all these factors combined, forcing Jinyoung to fumble the words he’d been keeping locked away for too long. “I have a boyfriend.”

Jinyoung’s brain echoed the words that hung heavy in the air around them, out loud for the first time. He felt the sharp edge of finality they carried. He was waiting for the moment to swallow him whole and was sorely disappointed when he was left stewing in the silence instead.

“Oh,” Mark released Jinyoung’s arm, leaning back in his seat. He took another bite, his face dazed. “That explains a lot.”

Jinyoung’s eyes glossed over. He looked back towards the road in front of him. “Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “I’m glad I could clear that up.”

“Is this his car?” Mark pointed around him.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck,” he whispered. “It’s nice.” He blinked. “How long?”

Jinyoung sighed. He rubbed his face with his hands, roughly. “Over five years,” he breathed out. “We’ve been engaged since the summer.”

“Shit,” Mark said in English, seeming to be sobering in realization.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung got quiet. Flashes of Jaebeom’s smile projecting against his mind. This was hitting him as much as it was hitting Mark.

“So,” Mark shrugged. “What’s the problem with you two? Why are hooking up with me?”

Jinyoung sighed. “There is no problem,” he said, his voice sharp. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. It just kinda… did.”

“Well, there’s got to be a problem. Even if you don’t see it,” Mark murmured.

“No there isn’t…” Jinyoung’s voice trailed off and he sighed hard. “Let me take you home,” he said, putting the car into drive.

“It’s fine,” Mark protested. “You don’t have to.”

“Mark, please,” Jinyoung urged, only to be met with silence.

Mark hung over Jinyoung’s shoulder as they stumbled into his apartment. The lights were off and the place was messier than it usually was. Jinyoung sat Mark down on his bed and began untying his shoes.

“Stay,” Mark murmured, his eyes struggling to stay open.

“I can’t,” Jinyoung shook his head, pulling the shoes off carefully.

“You want to,” Mark’s eyes narrowed, mischievously.

“I can’t,” Jinyoung repeated, going to kneel next to his bed.

Mark leaned forward, kissing him softly before he could pull himself away. A staling aroma of alcohol laced between his lips, the same way it was on New Year’s Eve. “I could die,” he whined as he leaned their foreheads together. “You need to watch over me.”

Jinyoung sighed, pulling back to look into Mark’s eyes. It was unmistakable, the effect he had on him. Everything else was white noise when they were together. From the voices in his head to the gold chain around his neck, they didn’t even register when Mark looked him in the eyes like this. “If I stay,” he warned. “I need you to promise to not get shitfaced anymore. You aren’t 19.”

Mark smirked. “It’s so hot when you boss me around.”

Jinyoung felt a flash of heat against his skin. “If you were a little less drunk, I wouldn’t feel bad taking advantage of you.”

“No,” Mark whined. “Please take advantage of me. Please.”

Jinyoung shook his head. “Not tonight.” He climbed over Mark and lay his head against the pillow, letting his hand snake around Mark’s lean frame. The scent of cinnamon candy tickling his nose and lulling him into a restful sleep.

\---

Jinyoung was the first one to wake up the next morning. When he checked his phone, he saw how late it was and cursed himself for not setting an alarm.

He watched Mark sleeping next to him. His hair falling in his face and his mouth tight.

He snaked a hand underneath the covers, rubbing it over Mark’s chest. “Mark,” he whispered. “Mark, wake up.”

The boy roused with a deep intake of breath. His legs stretching out in front of him. His eyes squinted against the light flooding the room.

“Come on,” Jinyoung pulled him up. “It’s late. I got to get going.”

Mark sat up, rubbing his eyes hard and sighing. “I’m up.”

Jinyoung got up. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water. “How do you feel?” Jinyoung asked as Mark took it.

Mark’s eyes were still struggling to stay open. “Like I got beat up.” He downed the glass of water in one long swig.

Jinyoung took the glass from him and set it on the bedside table. He laid himself down in Mark’s lap.

Mark’s hands ran through his hair calmly. “I don’t want you to go,” he said quietly.

Jinyoung reached up, holding his hand. “I have to,” he said simply.

Mark sighed. “What if you don’t come back?”

Jinyoung could hear the hurt in his voice. He licked his lips. When he spoke, his voice sounded more choked than he had expected it to, “do you want me to come back?”

Mark thought for a moment, staring off at the wall. He nodded.

“You don’t seem… deterred,” Jinyoung felt nervously at the blanket.

Mark thought long and hard. His eyebrows knit together and his nose slightly flared. “I’m frustrated,” he finally said. “But perhaps it’s because it feels like I’ve been chasing you for so long. And you’ve already thrown every obstacle possible at me. This just…”

“Doesn’t change anything,” Jinyoung finished. Their eyes met. The moment feeling charged.

Mark nodded. “It sounds awful.”

“It does,” Jinyoung agreed.

Mark smoothed a hand over his chest. “Look,” he said. “I want to be a person you can trust, Jinyoung” Mark reassured. “I want you to tell me your secrets. I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want you to lie to me too.”

“You’re nothing like him,” Jinyoung sat up, bringing their faces close. Their eyes intent.

Mark’s lips pulled up into a smile.

“And I don’t want to lie to you,” Jinyoung urged. “I won’t.”

Mark’s face lit up. He leaned himself closer, kissing him softly.

“But,” Jinyoung kissed him a few times in succession. “I do need to go.”

Mark nodded. “As long as you promise to be back. That’s all I can ask for now.”

\---

Youngjae came over to visit one night when the finale of him and Jinyoung’s favorite drama was premiering.

“She doesn’t really love him,” Jinyoung shook his head. “She seems so insincere. Look at the way she looks at him. No passion.”

Youngjae scoffed, “She totally does. She left her father’s fortune for him!”

“No,” Jinyoung disagreed. “She just likes the attention.”

Jaebeom came in through the front door with two grocery bags, “Are you guys watching your drama?”

“Yes, hello, babe,” Jinyoung waved at him but kept his eyes on the screen. “And don’t talk. This is the climax of the episode.”

The actress was just about to kiss her love interest when it unceremoniously cut to commercial.

“Fucking cliff hangers!” Youngjae shouted, throwing a pillow off the couch.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Shout if it comes back on,” Jinyoung got up.

He finished washing his hands when he heard it. Youngjae’s laugh, loud and bright, ringing through the house. At first, he assumed there must be a funny commercial on but as he cracked open the door for the bathroom, he found other reasons.

“But I cannot marry you,” Youngjae’s voice rang high and feminine. “I am betrothed to another.”

Jaebeom cleared his throat. “But you must. I’m the only one who can telepathically communicate with your disease to tell it to stop killing you.”

“Oh,” Youngjae feigned melodrama, placing a hand to his forehead. “You speak to my soul. And my vital organs.”

Jaebeom laughed. “I don’t get why you guys watch this shit.”

“It’s escapism,” Youngjae shrugged. “Isn’t there ever a time when you just want to explore where a different path could lead you?” His smile was bright and open.

Jaebeom didn’t speak for a moment. He was looking at Youngjae, his eyes growing increasingly nervous.

Jinyoung pushed through the door. “What are you guys talking about?”

Youngjae looked nervous all of a sudden and put his hood up around his face. “Nothing,” he said. “Your fiancé is just enjoying our show.”

“That’s the biggest lie I ever heard,” Jinyoung huffed. “He’s the type to act not interested but watch from the kitchen and ask a million clarifying questions. Speaking of, what’s for dinner?”

“I was gonna make soup,” Jaebeom said, toting the groceries to the kitchen.

“Can you make enough for me as well?” Youngjae called. “Your food is the best.”

“Only if you both plan on recapping the episode over dinner,” Jaebeom smiled.

Youngjae gave a thumbs up, “You got it,” he turned back towards the television. “Oh shit. It’s back on. Come on.”

Later that night, Jinyoung lay awake. Jaebeom was nuzzling into his neck, half asleep.

Jinyoung spoke into the quiet night air, “I heard you and Youngjae talking while I was in the bathroom.”

Jaebeom shrugged and when he spoke, his voice was nonchalant. “He was just being funny.”

“You know he always flirts with you.” Jinyoung shrugged. “I don’t know why you put up with it.”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes. “I’m just being friendly.” He pulled a face, narrowing his eyes, “are you intimidated by him?”

“No,” Jinyoung said firmly, twisting himself to look into Jaebeom’s face. “I’m just saying, I don’t want you to lead him on.”

“I’m marrying his best friend. I hardly think I’m leading him on,” Jaebeom huffed.

“Does it make you nervous?” Jinyoung looked away, eyes distant.

“What?”

“Getting married. So young.”

“We’ve been together since we were eighteen,” Jaebeom shrugged. “I love you. You love me. Marriage isn’t going to change that either way.”

Jinyoung nodded. “I know,” he said. “It’s just weird seeing all our friends so far from that. Marriage is this distant thing to them but it’s just on the horizon for us.”

“They aren’t us,” Jaebeom propped his head up on his arm. “They don’t see all we’ve been through. We can’t compare our timeline to theirs.”

Jinyoung nodded, quiet.

Jaebeom licked his lips before speaking. “I guess I think about it like, if now wasn’t the right time, when would the right time even be? You know?”

Jinyoung paused a moment, considering. “Yeah,” he finally conceded.

“But,” Jaebeom sighed. “I mean, if you don’t feel ready. I’d rather know now then later.”

Jinyoung shook his head. “No, I’m ready. I’m just being stupid. Don’t listen to me.”

Jaebeom’s eyes wavered for a moment but he let it go. He pulled Jinyoung closer. “You know how much I love you?” his voice was dreamy and soft.

“As much as I love you,” Jinyoung said. “Get some sleep, babe.” And Jinyoung lie awake, staring at the wall, until the light outside turned pink.

\---

They were sitting upright, facing each other, in the middle of Mark’s large bed. The light of the streetlamps and the occasional passing car was coming in through the blinds, creating a mural of stripes against the wall in the otherwise dark room. Mark’s heated floors clicked rhythmically as they worked.

Mark’s shirt was off and the blankets were pooled around him as his hard eyes stared across the room in thought. Jinyoung was leaning his face against Mark’s bare shoulder, feeling his eyelashes catch on the smooth skin. He struggled to keep his eyes open. Mark just felt so warm and the soft circles he was rubbing into Jinyoung’s lower back made him never want to leave.

Mark’s voice broke through the quiet, throat slightly scratchy from lack of use. “You only like me cause I’m not him.”

Jinyoung’s brain struggled to put the words together in its sleepy state. “Not true,” he mumbled out, shaking his head slightly.

Mark sighed. “I could have been anyone. All you had was the propensity to love someone else. It wasn’t specific to me. You were just subconsciously waiting for the next person to come along.”

“Stop,” Jinyoung whined.

Mark was stiffening with every passing moment. “I’m just saying.”

Jinyoung finally roused enough energy to lift his head and meet Mark’s worried eyes. “You are more than not him,” he said, letting his finger’s run through Mark’s hair as it swept away from his face. “I like you for what’s in here,” he tapped a finger between his brows that were creased with thought and anxiety. “All the thoughts you keep away from everyone else. All the worries you’re afraid to share with the world. All the things that keep reminding me that I have never met someone like you before.”

Mark seemed to relax a bit though his guard was still up. “How can I trust you?” he whispered out. “How can you trust yourself?”

Jinyoung felt his chest tighten up. His hand fell back to his lap. “I haven’t given you any reason to trust me,” he said, too honestly. “And I don’t trust myself.”

“You’re right,” Mark’s mouth flattened. “I can see it in your eyes. You can’t stop thinking about what it would mean if you were wrong. If you find out too late that you actually like him more. If your feelings for me are as momentary as you want them to be.”

Jinyoung didn’t answer. There was nothing he could say.

“I’m not going to lie,” Mark sighed. “It’s getting really exhausting. Being a pawn in your journey for self-discovery.”

Jinyoung huffed. “It’s not like that.”

Mark sat up straighter, pulling his arms away from Jinyoung to lean back on them. “What else am I supposed to think? I mean if there is me, there is probably others, right? I mean what about when I can’t answer my phone? What happens if you have to go three seconds without affection?”

Jinyoung felt himself getting heated too quickly. His drowsiness was mixing with Mark’s relentless, cutting sarcasm and he could feel the rush of it coating his veins in venom.

“Could you even try to see from my perspective? How hard this is for me?” Jinyoung protested, knowing it was a weak argument, but it was all he had.

Mark laughed in his face. “Getting fucked by the wild American boy while getting your bills paid by the hard-working businessman. You have my sympathy.”

Jinyoung felt it like a burn. “You’re so wrong,” he shook his head, trying to get Mark’s words out.

“Then fucking show me,” Mark bit out, getting his face too close to Jinyoung’s. “You can’t.”

Jinyoung’s head exploded. “Shut up!” he screamed. His weight shifted onto his knees and his hands pushed hard against Mark’s bare chest.

“Hey!” Mark’s voice raised as he grabbed at his wrists. “Stop that.”

“Don’t touch me!” Jinyoung bit out and yanked his arms away.

Mark’s face softened, realizing quickly that he crossed a line. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said-“

“No,” Jinyoung spat. “It’s fine, Mark.” He got up and began reaching for his shoes.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked, his voice growing tired.

“I’m going home,” Jinyoung said. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Jinyoung,” Mark sighed. “Come back.”

“No,” Jinyoung picked his jacket off the chair and pulled it on with haste.

Mark got up from the bed and paced towards him. His collarbones reflecting in the streetlight. Jinyoung felt infuriated by his perfection.

“What can I do?” Mark pleaded and tried to grab for his hand. “Tell me what to do.”

Jinyoung dodged away and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. “Start moving on from me, Mark.” He left swiftly through the front door, feeling dizzy from the reliable rush of panic; his most faithful companion.

\---

Jinyoung toed off his loafers and dropped his bag on the floor when he got in the house. His ride home in the back of a taxi had been uneventful except for the radio playing back a soulful song that only managed to crash his nervous, pent-up energy into unfathomable numbness.

“Babe,” he heard a voice call out in the darkness. “Is that you?”

Unquestioningly, he followed the sound of Jaebeom’s voice coming from the bedroom. He pushed open the door and adjusted his eyes to the darkness. Jaebeom was sitting up in bed, his chest bare and his eyes squinted. A mirror of what he had just left.

“I’m here, Jaebeom” Jinyoung spoke. “I’m here.” He crawled into the covers, laying himself against Jaebeom’s chest.

“I thought you were staying at Youngjae’s tonight?” his fiancé rubbed his eyes.

“I was,” Jinyoung felt his chest quake. “But I missed you too much.”

Jaebeom’s eyes glimmered through the darkness and Jinyoung couldn’t help but watch them. “Come here,” he beckoned, pulling Jinyoung on top of him and immediately pushing his jacket off his shoulders. “Let me have you.”

Jinyoung shrugged off the jacket, raising his arms when Jaebeom pulled at the hem of his shirt. He bent down, putting his hands against the pillow and letting his mouth crash into Jaebeom’s roughly, nipping at his lips.

Jaebeom pulled open the button of his jeans. “Get these off for me,” he growled.

Jinyoung complied, letting them slip onto the floor. He felt his bare skin against Jaebeom’s increasingly hard outline.

Jaebeom smoothed a hand over his thigh, pumping him slowly to start.

Jinyoung whined, the feeling almost being too much too soon. But he was sad and angry and the comfort Jaebeom was giving him was too good to stop. He leaned forward, kissing his fiancé roughly, desperate to convey his desperation. He raked his fingers through his hair that was messy from sleep. His hips bucked as Jaebeom touched him.

Jaebeom’s breaths were getting heavier as Jinyoung could feel him harden. He growled into Jinyoung’s mouth, “get up.” Jinyoung lifted himself off Jaebeom, sitting patiently on his knees, eagerly awaiting instructions. Jaebeom inched himself towards the end of the bed, craning his neck towards the headboard. “Bend over,” he commanded.

Jinyoung felt a rush of heat flood his face. He hurried to lay his hands over the headboard, gripping the edge. His ears perked to the sound of Jaebeom uncapping a bottle and he closed his eyes, the muscles in his ears and arms tensing in want.

He jolted when the cold, slick sensation reached his skin, feeling Jaebeom’s fingers rough and immediate. He hissed through his teeth.

Jaebeom worked his hand against him and as he felt himself soften, Jaebeom increased the pressure. Though Jinyoung couldn’t see him, he could feel the way his shoulders and back tensed as he worked him, adding more fingers that made Jinyoung sting in the most pleasurable way.

Jaebeom pulled away from Jinyoung, his presence suddenly distant. Each second apart felt like minutes. The wait was agonizing. Jinyoung could feel every nerve frayed and wide open, searching for any sensation that it could hold onto. He felt the chill of the room painting his skin with vulnerability. “Please,” he breathed. Tears pricked his eyes and he was thankful to be turned away. “I need it.”

Jaebeom’s hands reached out suddenly, grabbing onto his hips. He slid into Jinyoung easily but roughly. Not waiting to increase his speed.

Jinyoung braced himself against the headboard, his knuckles white. He welcomed the much-needed warmth and pressure, groaning low. He felt it everywhere from the tingling of his toes to the tightness of his jaw.

One of Jaebeom’s hands shifted from his hip to his throat, looping around to use him as leverage. Distantly, he could hear the heavy breaths falling from his mouth, but he was also so consumed by sensation that everything outside of himself felt oceans away. Mark felt oceans away.

Jaebeom’s speed increased, their bodies hammering together roughly and Jinyoung’s arms straining to hold himself up. He could feel the dampness of the sweat that dappled his back, soaking through the hair on the nape of his neck. Jinyoung couldn’t take it anymore. Jaebeom was raw and immediate and everything that Jinyoung needed in that moment. He closed his eyes. A moan that couldn’t wait another moment flooded out of him, low and loud. He came hard into the sheets.

Jaebeom continued, sawing through him. His hands stared to twitch, his knuckles feeling like they were snapping against Jinyoung’s skin. He managed to get four more thrusts before he was groaning, throaty and raw. Jinyoung, already feeling overly sensitive everywhere, buried his face against a pillow, trying to contain his whimpers.

Jaebeom crashed down onto the bed, pulling Jinyoung’s stiff body over him. His chest rising and falling. He pulled Jinyoung’s face towards him, peppering kisses on every hint of skin. “Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, warm and raspy.

Jinyoung fought a smile, covering Jaebeom’s hands with his own. “I love you too,” he said but it was distant and routine. His mind had already sailed away.

\---

Jinyoung was dreaming, of what he will never know, when he felt it come on strong. His eyes snapped open and he sat straight up in bed. His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself and he couldn’t breathe. He was heaving and heaving but it didn’t feel like enough.

Urgency hit him like a freight train and all his brain could register was that he had to go NOW. He raced out of bed, fumbling into the bathroom so fast that he fell to the floor, his knees hitting the tile hard.

His heart raced and his head pounded and he was hyperventilating. He lunged for the shower’s faucet. A cascade of water screeched through the night as he collapsed into the bathtub. He could feel the water soaking through his clothes, but he couldn’t register anything other than the panic that was consuming him. He was deafened by his thoughts as they moved a mile a minute in his ears, eyes darting around at nothing in particular, while he felt too overwhelmed and afraid to move. Everything dialed up to eleven.

He couldn’t be sure how long he was sitting in the bathtub like this before Jaebeom rushed in, his eyes wide and awake. He took in the scene and acted fast, turning the water off and climbing into the tub. “Come here,” he rushed and got down on his knees, outstretching his arms towards Jinyoung and not waiting for a response before he pulled him close.

Jinyoung could feel himself shaking against Jaebeom, felt the tears welling up in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Jaebeom soothed in his ear. “You’re safe,” he kept repeating.

The tears spilled over Jinyoung’s eyes silently.

“Breathe, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom reminded him. “I need you to breathe for me.” He modeled deep breaths and Jinyoung tried his hardest to follow but as soon as he could get a meager handle on breathing, his body wanted to use it exclusively for sobbing.

“Shhh,” Jaebeom soothed. “Keep breathing.”

Twenty minutes later, Jaebeom was pulling a fresh shirt over Jinyoung’s head as he sat on the edge of the bed. He had been able to calm down but he was crashing too fast. He was disassociating. His eyes unfocused and his face blank.

“When did you start feeling like this again?” Jaebeom asked cautiously.

Jinyoung didn’t answer, just shrugged his shoulders with little effort.

Jaebeom pursed his lips. “You should have told me,” he said.

“It’s nothing,” Jinyoung shook his head.

Jaebeom sighed. “That sure didn’t seem like nothing,” he said, pulling a dry shirt on himself as well. He sat down on the bed, the room only illuminated by the bathroom casting a streak of light down the middle of the room and half of Jaebeom’s face. “It’s been a long time since that happened.”

Jinyoung licked his lips. His head steadily calculated. “One year, eight months, thirteen days.”

Jaebeom was silent for a moment, letting his hand ghost over Jinyoung’s knee. “I have to ask,” he stammered. “But… is there anything you need to tell me? Anything that could be causing this.”

 _Everything that seemed so concrete is crumbling around me. I’m scared I no longer love you. I don’t want this relationship, but I don’t know who I am without this relationship. I’m seeing one of my students. I think I could love him._ All the things he could have said.

“It’s just my project,” Jinyoung forced the corners of his lips upward. “It’s keeping me busier than I anticipated.”

Jaebeom looked in his eyes. Hesitating, questioning. Before turning. Surrendering. “You need to take better care of yourself,” he sighed. “You still have a long way to go before you’re done and, while I know you can do it, I don’t want you to run yourself into the ground in the process.”

Jinyoung had a million things running through his head. But nothing he could say. He didn’t even know what was going on inside of him. Telling Jaebeom would only further that confusion. “I know. I’m sorry,” was all he could muster. “I’ll work on it.”

\---

Two weeks went by with radio silence from Mark. The first week was manageable. There were flashes of Mark tucked into the corners of Jinyoung’s days like the words from a sad song or the smell of cinnamon at his favorite cafe, but Jinyoung was busy and with tax deadlines finally closed, Jaebeom was by his side more often than he had been all school year. But as the second week came, the flashes turned into rhythms and then waves that hit Jinyoung out of nowhere. Even with Jaebeom cuddled close to him on the couch or sitting across from him at their favorite sushi restaurant, Jinyoung’s smile would manage to fall as his floods of loneliness came out of nowhere. They made everything feel at an arm’s length, like he was spectating life instead of participating in it.

Jinyoung was studying in his office when a frantic, loud knock at the door made him jump up with his hands in fists. He took a moment, relaxing his shoulders as he saw Youngjae tapping on the glass door. _Let. Me. In._ Youngjae mouthed.

Jinyoung’s mouth flattened into a hard line as he pulled the door open. “What do you want? I’m trying to get some work done here.”

Youngjae forced himself through the doorway into Jinyoung’s space, moving his books to the side to take a seat on the desk. “Hyung,” he rushed excitedly. “Hyunghyunghyunghyunghyung!”

“Youngjae WHAT?” Jinyoung’s eyes widened in annoyance.

“Guess…,” Youngjae started with a smile wide across his face. “…who has a real, honest to God, date tomorrow?”

“Lee Minho?” Jinyoung sassed, pulling the chair back from the desk and taking a seat.

“No, your friend, the handsome, the talented, the boy wonder, Choi Youngjae,” the boy put his face to his hands.

Jinyoung tried to smother his smile but he ended up just furrowing his eyebrows more to compensate. “What happened?”

Youngjae took a deep breath. “Well,” he began excitedly. “You know how the animal shelter brings the dogs to play with on the green on the first Thursday of each month? Well usually I have choral practice during that time but today, we got an email that our instructor was sick so I decided I would try and make it to see the puppies today. And they did not disappoint! They had an older boxer that’s name was Maggie and they had this itty bitty Maltese named-“

“Youngjae!” Jinyoung interrupted. “Let’s get to the point here.”

“Well so this little Maltese manages to wiggle out of the gate and proceeds to start running across the green,” Youngjae put his hand over his chest. “And I full on panicked. I dropped my bag and straight up ran for her! And what does she do? She sees a guy opening his arms towards her and she runs STRAIGHT TO HIM. Like it was her owner or something. And he was hot too so I couldn’t blame her. And so this guy just scoops her up in his arms and starts walking towards me. And he was like “oh is she yours?” and I told him no and that I was just playing with her. And he didn’t know the shelter did that thing so he came over and we started playing with her. We were running around and letting her chase us and she was trying to nip at our heels. And this boy just had the biggest smile across his face and he couldn’t stop laughing and he was SO good looking, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung nodded, trying to move him along.

“So after like twenty minutes of doing this, we both were kinda sweaty and out of breath and he said he had a class to go to BUT he wanted to know if I could grab dinner tomorrow night,” Youngjae’s eyes and mouth widened. “Can you even believe that?”

“So you bonded over your love of dogs and now you think he’s the love of your life?” Jinyoung smiled.

“Is there any other conclusion I should drawing here?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “Did you even get his name?”

Youngjae nodded. “His name’s Mark,” he said.

Jinyoung felt his stomach flip.

“He’s American!” Youngjae smiled. “I go from eating a pint of ice cream for dinner by myself to getting a date with a hot American in less than 24 hours!”

Jinyoung swallowed hard, mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

“So,” Youngjae looked at Jinyoung eagerly. “Doesn’t that sound great?”

Jinyoung blinked. “Y-yeah,” he stuttered out. “When and where is the date?”

“He’s taking me to that Taiwanese place on the west side of campus at 8. He said it’s his favorite and he was shocked I hadn’t been there.”

Jinyoung’s mind flashed back to their argument two weeks ago. _Start moving on from me, Mark._ Jinyoung cursed under his breath and luckily Youngjae didn’t notice.

\----

Jinyoung didn’t try to think about it all day and all night and all the next day but he couldn’t stop playing back imaginary scenes of Mark’s smile in the sunlight and how he must have looked running across the green with sweat dampening his hairline. No wonder Youngjae had been enamored. Who wouldn’t be with that boy? He was easy to obsess over.

Which is probably why Jinyoung found himself creeping up the steps of the Taiwanese restaurant at quarter to nine, hating himself as he adjusted his hood over his head.

“Table for one,” Jinyoung said, his breath quiet. “Could I get the one in the corner over there?”

The hostess eyed him strangely but nodded, leading him to the dark corner by the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just water,” Jinyoung whispered. “Thank you.”

The woman’s face hesitated but she walked away.

Jinyoung’s eyes scanned the room, finding Mark and Youngjae immediately. Youngjae had on one of his oversized hoodies with the sleeves pushed up his arms. Jinyoung wasn’t too close but it was impossible to mistake the bright smile across the boy’s face. He heard Youngjae’s signature laugh punctuating the air of the restaurant. It was the first time that the sound made feel uneasy.

Mark’s more quiet laughter joined him and Jinyoung could barely see his face but he could see that his eyes were alive and happy. His blonde hair was pushed back off his face with product. He wore his bomber jacket and Jinyoung couldn’t but think he liked it better on his office floor.

Jinyoung isn’t sure how long he watched them, feeling all the muscles in his ears tense as he tried with all his might to overhear their conversation but all he could hear was the frequent and bright laughter that they both projected.

It wasn’t until they had finished their meal and were waiting for the check that Mark’s eyes absentmindedly scanned the room to look for the waitress. And before Jinyoung could react, Mark’s stare locked onto him accidently. His eyes softening in a second.

Jinyoung looked away, his blood suddenly rushing loud in his ears. His body buzzed nervously and his anxiety told him he needed to get out now. He got up, rushing to the nearest door.

He shoved through the door and pushed his hood off his head, pacing around a small alleyway nervously. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he whispered to himself. His words translating into a stream of condensation in the cold, winter air.

He heard the door swing open and he looked up. Mark was stopped, his face tight.

The air between them hung silent for a moment and Jinyoung couldn’t help but think that the last time he had seen him, he looked just as mad as he did now. Just as beautiful.

“What are you doing here?” Mark bit out.

Jinyoung swallowed, unable to speak.

“You are actually spying on me?” Mark said, his eyes narrowing.

“No,” Jinyoung spat out. “I was just in the neighborhood and-.”

“Jinyoung,” Mark sighed. “I know you lie to everyone else in your life but you don’t have to lie to me.”

Jinyoung felt the words like a burn. “Stop, Mark.”

Mark licked his lips and let out a long sigh before speaking again. “Why are you here? What do you want to know?”

Jinyoung’s mouth hung open and he felt a sting in his eyes. “He’s my best friend. He was my roommate for years,” he sighed.

Mark’s face was still for a moment before it broke, comprehending the words. Putting two and two together. His hands made their way up to rub his eyes, roughly. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Do you really like him?” Jinyoung asked suddenly. No longer trying to hide. “I need to know.”

Mark’s eyes were hard and he crossed his arms over his chest, face twitching. “He’s great,” he said softly. He looked down onto the floor. “I mean I could like him.”

Jinyoung’s eyes were watering faster than he could anticipate and he tried to dry them with rage.

“I could like him,” Mark repeated. “But he’s no you.”

Jinyoung felt the heat in his core, snaking up his neck and down his limbs. He closed the distance between them in three strides and felt his lips attach to Mark’s too easily. Like they had been begging to return.

Mark kissed back immediately, his hands looping around Jinyoung’s hips and drawing him closer.

“You’re mine,” Jinyoung growled into his mouth. “No one else’s.” His lips moving to Mark’s neck where his skin was smooth and warm.

Mark nodded against it as a strangled noise escaped his lips.

Jinyoung’s hand felt for the hair on the back of Mark’s neck while the other one pressed against the alleyway wall. He didn’t care about anything. All he cared about was inhaling as much of Mark’s scent as he could. It never felt like enough.

Jinyoung was in deep but the sound of the door swinging open pulled him out immediately, like jumping into freezing water. He pulled away fast, seeing Mark’s eyes burst open.

When they both looked, they saw Youngjae standing in the doorway, his face rushing through seventy emotions at once.

“Youngjae,” Jinyoung spoke too quickly. “I can explain.”

“Mark,” Youngjae said sharply. His voice something Jinyoung had never heard before. “Get out.”

Mark’s mouth was small and he looked to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said towards Youngjae. His eyes flashed up momentarily to Jinyoung’s with the unspoken look of sympathy. And maybe a little bit of longing.

Jinyoung waited till Youngjae had come into the alley and Mark had left the door to swing shut. “Youngjae,” Jinyoung ran for him, grabbing one of his hands and holding it. “I’m sorry. It’s a long story. Mark was just-“

“Stop,” Youngjae said. He didn’t try and pull his hand away but it was as limp and blank as his face. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Please,” Jinyoung begged. “Let me explain.”

“We are leaving,” Youngjae said firmly. “Now.” He turned towards the street. “You are coming with me.”

Jinyoung didn’t try and argue but instead followed Youngjae. The ride home was dead silent. Youngjae’s face had never been so serious. His nostrils flared and his hand combed through his hair as he paced the train car.

Jinyoung could feel all this nervous energy inside of him as he tried to think of a way to convey his story. A way to not make himself look like what he was. But his brain just kept giving out and he couldn’t think of anything but Mark’s skin and how good it tasted.

“Sleep on the couch,” Youngjae said when they got home, pulling off his coat with little energy. “We’ll talk in the morning.” With that, he slammed the door to his bedroom; leaving Jinyoung alone with his thoughts and his shame.

\----

Sunlight streamed in through the front window and Jinyoung sat amongst the blankets in his lap on the couch. He could feel the knot in his neck and the heaviness under his eyes from his restless night of sleep.

Youngjae sat in the second-hand armchair that Jinyoung had helped him collect from someone’s trash months ago, his face looking away and towards nothing in particular. His head tilted slightly to the side and his expression somewhere on the spectrum between blank and bothered.

Jinyoung was drowning in the silence as he watched the morning light cut through all the loose dust particles in the air. Floating on despite the stillness of everything else.

“Say something,” Jinyoung murmured just above a whisper, the words coming out stiff in his dry throat. Contrasting harshly against the silence.

Youngjae took in a breath. “It’s not real, Jinyoung,” he said faintly, not turning his head.

Jinyoung swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean whatever you think you two have, whatever you think is going on, it’s not real. You’re just…,” Youngjae shook his head. “Bored.”

Jinyoung felt the words hit hard. Too close to the one’s Mark had used but now, he had nothing to be mad about. So he just sunk deeper into the couch, into himself. He blinked his eyes as flashes of Mark’s smile and his laugh intruded on his messy thoughts. “Yeah,” he dropped his head, trying to shake out the sounds and images. “You’re probably right.”

Youngjae finally turned himself toward Jinyoung, his elbows coming to rest on his knees and his face pressing against his folded hands in thought. “Have you slept with him?”

With that, Jinyoung felt every nerve in his body rush and shake as if someone just plugged him in. He kept his eyes on the carpet. “No,” he said, trying not to let his voice shake.

Youngjae’s mouth thinned. “Look at me, Jinyoung,” he said.

Jinyoung looked up, feeling the quaking in his chest and through his shoulders as they caved in. Feeling small and weak and guilty.

Youngjae rarely was this serious. Jinyoung could only think of a handful of times. When his childhood dog passed away, when his first real boyfriend had dumped him, when him and Jinyoung would have dumb fights that would end in Jinyoung making milkshakes to make him smile. But the weight of the topic was baring heavy on both of them and Jinyoung was just praying that Youngjae wouldn’t leave him to bare it himself.

“You can still save this,” he said. “You need to tell Mark it’s over.”

Jinyoung pursed his lips, eyes glossing over with a fresh coat of tears. He had anticipated this conversation for too long, but it felt more raw than he could have ever imagined. He felt his anxiety welling up inside of him. “I know,” he said though the words felt empty, meaningless.

“I want to help you though,” Youngjae said, his voice growing more soothing. “I know how important Jaebeom is to you and I don’t want to see you destroy that over some exotic American boy with a nice face.”

Jinyoung felt something surge through him to defend Mark; to make Youngjae realize that Mark was more than just that. That he was smart and thoughtful and fierce and beautiful and all these other things that Jinyoung was addicted to uncovering. But his mouth wouldn’t open. His voice wouldn’t stir. He was paralyzed.

“Tell me you hear me,” Youngjae said, his voice edging on begging.

Jinyoung took a deep breath and nodded.

Youngjae reached out, putting a hand on Jinyoung’s knee. The blanket creasing beneath his fingers. “I just want what’s best for you, hyung. And this…guy,” Youngjae shook his head. “He’s not what Jaebeom is to you.”

And Jinyoung couldn’t help but agree with that statement more than anything else Youngjae had said. Mark and Jaebeom couldn’t have been more different in Jinyoung’s mind. Jaebeom was this mascot of memories and stability; this constant source in his life that made him feel warm and safe and loved. Mark was… a rollercoaster. Twisting and turning and changing and Jinyoung felt high on the ride. He made his heart race. He made him feel more alive than he had in what felt like years.

Jinyoung felt his hands ringing together, rough from the cold. “So you aren’t going to tell Jaebeom?” he asked cautiously.

Youngjae removed his hand and sat back. “No,” he sighed half-heartedly. “I believe you can fix this yourself. I don’t want to interfere in that.”

\---

Jaebeom found Jinyoung in the shower, unable to breath, three times in one week. He didn’t say anything at first but Jinyoung could see the worry painting his face and creasing between his brows like he was mad but had nothing to be mad about.

“Can we talk?” he said one morning, making some excuse about why he didn’t have to be at work till a bit later.

Jinyoung was putting his laptop into his messenger bag at the kitchen counter and almost dropped it, taken off guard. “Yeah,” he turned towards him, bracing himself against the counter’s edge. “What’s up?”

Jaebeom had thought about what he was going to say. That was obvious. He had never been good at thinking on his feet when it came to the way he felt. He needed time to consider what he thought and how to voice it. Even now he was still struggling to make the words come out. Jinyoung knew him too well to look past it. “I know you said that your anxiety is just stress from school,” he started. “But are you sure there isn’t something else going on?”

Jinyoung had only half been expecting this. He intrinsically knew that Jaebeom would see a change in him in some capacity. Especially after his talk with Youngjae. It was only logical. But he didn’t expect him to say anything about it. Jaebeom was the type to let things go because sometimes it was easier to not know the answer than to figure out how to ask. Jinyoung could see that this interaction was taking considerable effort on Jaebeom’s part and while he normally would be grateful for it, he wasn’t.

“Like what?” Jinyoung played dumb. Wondering what hints of Mark he could see reflecting in Jinyoung.

“I don’t know,” he said after a moment, dragging his finger against the edge of the counter. “It just seems…” he thought. “Like you’ve been a bit distant.”

Jinyoung screwed his face. He was not like Jaebeom when it came to finding words. In the wrong situation, Jinyoung was a ruthless combatant. He could be quick and pointed with words in ways that others couldn’t. Often using it to his own advantage. And he had known Jaebeom for so long and had learned not to overpower their arguments if they had any chance of reaching a compromise. But this time, Jinyoung was feeling cornered and defensive and any hope of having a productive conversation felt already long lost.

“I’m sorry that I have a life outside of you,” he said, quick and cold.

Jaebeom grimaced, already seeing this go down the wrong path. “That’s not-“

“You’re right,” Jinyoung interrupted. “I’ve been distant. I have been working hard on my thesis. I’m sorry I don’t have a cut and dry desk job like you.”

Jaebeom was silent for a moment. “That came out the wrong way,” he said as if it was his fault. “I just wanted to make sure you are okay.”

Jinyoung scoffed, “you won’t stop asking me if I’m okay. Every time I turn around. You say you trust me. You tell me to work hard. Yet suddenly when I do, there is something wrong. I can’t make you happy.”

Jaebeom shook his head. “I’m plenty happy, I ju-”

“Are you?” Jinyoung raised his eyebrows.

Jaebeom stopped, his mouth open. Taken aback. “Yeah,” he said, exasperated. “I’m marrying you.”

“But you aren’t married to me yet.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jaebeom’s voice shook slightly.

“I’m just saying. If you aren’t happy with me. If there is something else you want. You should probably figure that out now.” Jinyoung’s stomach tied itself in knots.

Fear washed over Jaebeom’s face. He swallowed hard. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m just being realistic,” Jinyoung shrugged. “I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret down the line.”

Jaebeom crossed his arms. “I’ll see you when you get home later.”

And his non-definitive response hit Jinyoung like a load of bricks.

“Have a great day, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom stepped pass Jinyoung in the doorway, heading to the bedroom and shutting the door.

Jinyoung sighed, knowing he had no one to blame but himself. He grabbed his messenger bag and headed out the door.

\---

Jinyoung had been on the way to school when Mark texted him.

_I miss your skin. Wanna play hooky?_

He had already been feeling so low after his fight with Jaebeom. He knew he had gaslit him. Blown the whole thing out of proportion. Projected his problems onto him. He knew Jaebeom was perfect. The easiest partner anyone could ask for. The most loving person he knew. So why did he just want to watch him crumble? Where had all this resentment come from?

Jinyoung got off on the next stop and started heading towards Mark. Two hours later, they were splayed on Mark’s floor, letting the heated floors do their work as they ate delivery jjajangmyeon. Mark’s chest was bare and Jinyoung was only wearing one of his oversized hoodies with the hood pulled around his face. The scent of their sex still floating through the air.

“Do Yugyeom and Bambam know?” Jinyoung asked, taking a bite of radish.

“Know what?” Mark said smoothly but Jinyoung could tell he knew.

“Know about us,” Jinyoung dropped his shoulders.

“Know what about us?” Mark smirked into his food.

Jinyoung sighed. “That we fuck. That I have a boyfriend. Everything.”

Mark laughed a little, his shoulders shaking. “Yes. All of the above.”

Jinyoung groaned. “Why?”

Mark shrugged. “Cause they’re my best friends.”

“But they could tell someone.”

“Like who?”

Jinyoung thought. “I don’t know. It’s a small world. Bambam’s got a big mouth.”

“You barely know him.”

“The second night you met, he explained a mole on Yugyeom’s butt in graphic detail.”

“Oh, that mole. Yeah. He needs to get that checked out.”

Jinyoung laughed and Mark joined him. He finished off his bowl, putting it to the side. He got up to grab some water.

He had his back to Mark as he filled up a glass. “I have an opportunity,” Jinyoung sputtered out.

“What kind of opportunity?” Mark said with suspicion in his voice.

“Study abroad,” Jinyoung turning back towards him. His hands knitted together between the sleeves.

“Busan campus?”

“London.”

Mark’s eyes widened and he put his bowl to the side. “Wow,” he smiled at one corner of his mouth. “What would you be doing there?”

“Literary research. Some teaching. Maybe applying for a doctorate.”

Mark’s eyes sparkled. “That would be perfect for you.”

Jinyoung scoffed, grabbing the glass and coming to sit back down with him. “Except for my English being piss poor.”

“It’s not,” Mark’s brows furrowed. “And I’ll help you work on it. You’ll pick it up. You’re smart.”

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung sighed.

“Just apply,” Mark put his hands to his thighs, smoothing them upward. “If they pass you up, no skin off your nose. If you get it, you can consider it.”

Jinyoung looked into his eyes. They were eager, urging. Jinyoung sometimes couldn’t understand how Mark could get himself invested in these small, personal things in his life. Things that would never payoff for Mark himself.

“Ok,” Jinyoung nodded. “I’ll apply.”

\---

It was the next day. Jinyoung and Jaebeom hadn’t really gotten a chance to finish their discussion. They had slept next to each other in silence the night before. Awkwardly made wide circles around each other during the day. But that night, Jaebeom had a company party. He would have them every couple of months. The true purpose of going was to show your face and make connections. Jinyoung would appear at his side playing the role of the steadfast partner. They would answer the same questions about their wedding over and over again to people who wouldn’t care to remember.

“Jaebeom’s lucky to have someone to take care of the home during busy seasons,” one older woman remarked.

“Well, I am actually working on my master’s degree in literature,” Jinyoung mentioned through gritted teeth for what must have been the fourteenth time.

The woman slapped his arm lightly. “A nice hobby in your spare time. Just wait till children come along. You’ll find that they become your only hobby,” she laughed.

Jinyoung politely laughed and shot lasers towards Jaebeom.

Once they had moved on, Jinyoung grabbed himself a drink from the bar and met Jaebeom in a corner of the living room. “Why do I bother coming to these things?”

Jaebeom sighed. “They are good people,” he said. “They just… only see one track for life.”

“I know, I know,” Jinyoung scoffed. “College, associate, senior, marriage, kids, partner, retirement,” he rang off quickly. “Anything else is just… a hobby.”

Jaebeom shrugged his shoulders wordlessly, distracted.

Jinyoung turned his attention to the house. The vaulted ceilings, the sliding glass doors that led to a deck, the juxtaposition of modern and homey. He couldn’t help but admire the design work.

“Do you wanna buy a house like this with me one day?” Jinyoung asked, smiling at him sweetly.

Jaebeom’s eyes were towards the ground. “Mmhm,” he nodded. “I think so.”

The wording cut deeper than it should have. Jinyoung’s shoulders dropped, exasperated. “What’s the fuck is wrong with you?” he said, voice immediately caustic. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?” Jaebeom looked up, seeming to feign naivety.

“Like you don’t even want to be in the same room as me,” Jinyoung spat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jaebeom took a sip of his drink, eyes scanning the room.

Jinyoung scoffed, opening his mouth to unload before Jackson’s eager face popped up. “My favorite couple!” he called through beer laced breath. He slung his arms around their shoulders. “How are you doing tonight?”

“Good, Jackson,” Jaebeom sighed, obviously not doing well.

“Uh oh,” Jackson sang. “Trouble in paradise.”

“You know me, Jackson,” Jinyoung offered. “I’m happy you and Jaebeom like where you work and everything. But this really isn’t my crowd.”

“You’re too god damn intellectual, Jinyoung,” Jackson scoffed. “These people can’t understand knowledge for the sake of knowledge. They only understand knowledge for the sake of money.”

“Thank you,” Jinyoung agreed. “You get it.”

“I get it too,” Jaebeom hissed. “But this is my career. I support yours. Would it kill you to do the same?”

“Yikes,” Jackson raised his eyebrows. “I’m gonna go get another drink and then check back in on you two, okay?”

Jackson bolted away. Jinyoung looked over to Jaebeom. His jaw was tight and his eyes were harsh. He was trying to breath normally but Jinyoung could see he was seething. “Come on,” Jaebeom grabbed Jinyoung’s arm.

Jinyoung tried to pull away, futilely. “What are you doing?”

“Ending this.” He dragged Jinyoung back through the house. Looking around at the guests. The crowd started to thin the deeper they went. They passed the kitchen, a few too many bedrooms, and came upon a dark hallway. Jaebeom tested the doors, opening them and peeking inside. After the third one, he opened the door wide and dragged Jinyoung inside. He turned on the lights. It was a small guest bathroom. The space was tight and there was only so much space between the wall and the sink.

“What are you doing?” Jinyoung repeated, his voice less heated and more lost.

“We’re both being stupid,” Jaebeom growled. “I’m gonna do this and then we are going to drop this pointless argument and stop embarrassing ourselves.”

Jinyoung furrowed his eyebrows. “Do what?”

Jaebeom raised him up, propping him onto the sink. And before Jinyoung could fight back, he was diving in to kiss him roughly. At first, he tried to pull away, but when Jaebeom didn’t let up, it only made him want to give in.

Jaebeom’s hands went to his shirt, undoing the buttons with lightning speed. He pushed the shirt over his shoulders, exposing his bare chest. His hands smoothed over him, pulling him closer until their chests were brushing together.

Jinyoung felt himself reaching out, trying to undo Jaebeom’s buttons. But his fingers couldn’t work fast enough. He hissed frustrated into Jaebeom’s mouth.

Jaebeom ran his hands over the collar, sliding them down and then pulling hard. The shirt ripped apart and the waterfall of buttons hit the tile floor in quick succession.

Jinyoung looked down at him, shocked but then starting to laugh.

Jaebeom smiled and shrugged off his shirt, letting his hands return to Jinyoung’s sides. He moved them downward, maneuvering to his pants and undoing them confidently. He pulled them until they were off on the floor and Jinyoung was naked against the cool sink.

He felt so exposed, but the small room was quickly heating up and the look on Jaebeom’s face was the perfect mixture of wild and familiar.

“Fuck,” Jaebeom said suddenly. He crouched down, moving Jinyoung’s legs to open the cabinet up.

Jinyoung stared down at him in confusion as he rummaged through the contents.

“Ah-ha,” Jaebeom said, closing the doors and lifting himself back up. His fingers flipping a tube of hand cream. “Now. Where was I?”

“You were at the part where you fuck me senseless in your boss’s guest bathroom,” Jinyoung reminded him.

Jaebeom put a hand on Jinyoung, sliding it down into his lap and starting to move against him. Jinyoung gave a small moan, tilting himself back against the mirror.

As Jaebeom rubbed him, he undid his own pants, sliding them down and pulling his hips close so Jinyoung could feel the contact of their hardnesses. He unscrewed the tube of hand crème, squeezing some into his hand and wrapping it around both of them, pumping them together.

Jinyoung whined, pushing his hips higher to meet Jaebeom’s hand.

Jaebeom put his other hand to Jinyoung’s neck, drawing him closer. He put their foreheads together as they breathed hot air into each other’s mouths. “Fuck,” he said, breathlessly. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Jinyoung could feel the sweat dampening against his back and the pressure building. “Show me,” he said.

Jaebeom smirked, pulling his hand away and delving it deeper to feel at Jinyoung’s entrance. He slipped his fingers inside, spreading them quickly.

Jinyoung sighed, like he could finally breathe and let his head roll back. “Gimme you,” he whimpered into Jaebeom’s ear. “I need you.”

Jaebeom pulled his hand out immediately, running it over himself. He lined himself up with Jinyoung quickly before pushing into him.

Jinyoung let out a moan but Jaebeom stopped it with his mouth kissing him hard, reminding him to stay quiet. He worked up to a steady rhythm, holding Jinyoung’s ass in his hands and pushing towards his place on the sink.

Jinyoung felt like putty in his hands, melting into his spot and around Jaebeom. He wrapped his legs around his hips, tensing them to bring him closer with every thrust. He laced his hands around Jaebeom’s neck, feeling the thin layer of sweat building up on his skin.

Jaebeom put one of his hands around Jinyoung, starting to pump him in time with his rhythm. Jinyoung felt the warmth coating his body too quickly. “I’m gonna lose it,” he whispered. “Don’t stop.”

And Jaebeom didn’t stop, he only increased his speed. His eyebrows crinkling together and his jaw tensing and a vein in his neck looking strained under his skin. Jinyoung could see he was coming undone, so he bent down, kissing him hard, stifling his moan as he came.

Jinyoung pulled away, watching as Jaebeom continued to pump him. He felt his back arching and his toes curling. He closed his eyes, jerking forward to rest his forehead on Jaebeom’s shoulder as he came into his hand.

They stayed there for a moment, catching their breath.

“Come on,” Jaebeom whispered, breathy and quick. “We got to get out of here before they notice we’re gone.”

They cleaned themselves up and reemerged from the bathroom, drifting through the house again till they found the party. As they walked back into the living room, Jaebeom’s boss was standing on a chair, giving a speech. They noticed Jackson standing on the edge of the crowd and slipped back in.

“You both look better,” Jackson offered under his breath. “Get over your lover’s quarrel?”

Jinyoung looked up to Jaebeom, his work shirt now folded around his torso in the absence of buttons. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “You could say that.”

\---

Jinyoung hit a major deadline for his paper. His advisor had given him great feedback for what felt like the first time in a long time. He was rising high and eager to come home to tell Jaebeom.

He was flicking through videos on his train home when Jaebeom texted him.

_Congrats on meeting your deadline! Tonight. Movies?_

Truth be told, he was exhausted but Jaebeom almost never had time to take him out.

_Movies._

Two hours later, Jinyoung and Jaebeom were taking their seat at the movie. “Are you excited?” Jaebeom whispered in the dim lights of the theater.

“We’ll see if it lives up to the book,” Jinyoung shrugged.

“Want me to go grab some snacks?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “No, let me. You got the tickets,” he got up. “What do you want?”

“Can you see if they have chestnuts?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nodded and made his way back through the theater towards the concession stand.

“Jinyoung,” someone called his name.

He turned behind him and looked up. Yugyeom was smiling big and waving.

“What are you doing here?” Jinyoung smiled.

“Seeing a movie,” he said, obviously. “That new one with the zombies.”

“I hear it’s scary. Do you scare easily?” Jinyoung asked.

Yugyeom nodded. “Extremely. But Bam said he would make jokes at all the scary parts so I don’t get scared.”

“That’s nice of him,” Jinyoung smiled.

“Mmhm. Oh!” Yugyeom perked up and pointed behind him. “We are here with Mark. He’s over th-“

“Jinyoung!” Jaebeom ran up behind him. Stopping next to him and handing him something. “You forgot your wallet.”

Jinyoung felt his heartbeat pick up.

Jaebeom looked up to Yugyeom. “Oh. Sorry. Who is this?”

Jinyoung’s swallowed hard. “Old student. This is Yugyeom. Yugyeom, this is Jaebeom.”

“I’m his fiancé,” Jaebeom nodded and stuck out his hand. His smile a mile wide.

Yugyeom’s face lit up. “Oh,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

Jinyoung looked past Yugyeom to the other side of the lobby. His eyes fell on Mark at Bambam’s side. A cap low over his face but Jinyoung could still see him stare. He swore he saw a lump in his throat.

“Well, enjoy your movie with your friends, Yugyeom. We are just going to get some snacks,” Jinyoung rushed to remove himself.

“Of course,” he nodded. “Nice meeting you,” he bowed his head towards Jaebeom. “See you later, Jinyoung.”

When Jinyoung and Jaebeom had turned away, Jaebeom threw his arm around his waist. He leaned in close to his ear. “Why is he calling you Jinyoung? I wouldn’t let my students talk to me like that.”

“He’s a brat,” Jinyoung scoffed.

“And he said he’d see you later? Do you still teach him?”

“Listen,” Jinyoung sighed. “He barely passed the course. Don’t overthink what he says.”

Jaebeom shrugged, turning his attention toward the concessions. “Damn,” he said. “They are out of chestnuts. I guess I’ll just get popcorn then. What do you want?”

“Uh,” Jinyoung struggled to be present. “Just get me a drink and I’ll share the popcorn with you. Get caramel.”

Jaebeom smiled at him, pulling him close and whispering in his ear. “You look so handsome tonight,” he said.

Jinyoung felt the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Let me kiss you,” Jaebeom said, putting a hand to his face.

And Jinyoung did, feeling his stomach flutter.

“Next!” called the concessions person and Jaebeom stepped up, ordering for them.

Jinyoung looked over his shoulder and could still see Mark looking onward, his face tight under the shadow of his cap.

\---

The next day, Jinyoung could tell something was off when all of Mark’s texts were coming one word at a time.

_How are you today?_  
_Fine._  
_How was the movie last night?_  
_Good._  
_Any plans?_  
_No._

But it eventually got to be too much to bear.

“Jaebeom,” he called into the next room. “I actually wanted to go run an errand today. Do you mind if I step out for a while?”

“Sure,” Jaebeom crossed into the living room. “I can come help if you want. I’m free until Jackson comes over in a few hours.”

Jinyoung hesitated. “Oh,” he shook his head. “No, it’s really boring. I just have to go return some books at the library and print some things out.”

“You sure?” Jaebeom questioned. “I could make it fun. Maybe find that corner in library we tried out that one time.” He smoothed a hand over Jinyoung’s thigh.

Jinyoung grabbed his hand, pulling it off of him with a smirk. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Jaebeom said, slightly dejected. “Well, I’ll let you know when Jackson gets here. Maybe the three of us can grab dinner tonight?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung said, already getting up to go. “That would be great.”

Not much longer, he was in Mark’s door with coffees in hand as a peace offering. Mark’s lips were tight as he left the door open, going to sit down on the end of the bed. Jinyoung sat down at the small table, putting the coffees down. He didn’t remove his jacket, unsure of if Mark even wanted him here. They sat in silence for a few moments. The only sound was a truck passing by, projecting an ad, reading out a phone number in a friendly, yet robotic voice.

“Why are you with me?” Mark wondered aloud after considerable silence. “He’s literally perfect.”

Jinyoung scoffed. “Not this again.”

“He’s exceptionally hot. You’ve been best friends forever. He has a good job. He loves you unconditionally. He would do anything to make you happy,” Mark named them off on his fingers. “And then there’s me. Weird loner with a dark past who doesn’t know what he wants from life.”

Jinyoung sighed. He moved from his place to sit next to him on the bed. “Stop thinking it’s a one to one. I don’t like you for anything he lacks. I just like you. For you.”

“No, it’s not that simple,” he waved Jinyoung away. “I think you are bored. Bored with perfection.”

Jinyoung noted that this was the same thing Youngjae had said. He still wasn’t convinced it was true.

Jinyoung knew there was nothing he could say so he just sighed again. He got up, pulling a book out of a stack and sat back down on the bed, flipping it open. He wasn’t sure if it was an act of patience or protest.

A few minutes passed by. From over his shoulder, Jinyoung could see Mark ringing his hands, nervously. “Jinyoung,” Mark finally said. His voice almost pleading though he was turned away. “I’m not like that chain around your neck. I’m not a piece of jewelry. You can’t just take me off and put me on when you feel like it.”

Jinyoung’s fingers instinctively went to his neck, feeling the grit of chain. He didn’t notice it most of the time. He was surprised Mark had.

Mark stood up, turning back towards him. He sighed hard, pacing. “You’ve given me a lose-lose scenario. I can’t leave cause I am so desperate to have you at any cost. But if I stay, what’s my expiration date? When does this stop being your self-exploration time? When do you go back to your reality and when do I have to start rebuilding mine without you?”

Perhaps Jinyoung’s first reaction should have been anger. But at this point, knowing all he knew, it wasn’t. “I know,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry. This isn’t fair for you.”

Mark’s eyes snapped to Jinyoung, surprised. “What?” he asked, as if he must have misheard him.

“You’re right,” he said simply. “You’re almost twenty-six. You’re graduating this semester. You are moving on to law school. And I’m just a speed bump for you. I’m just keeping you from moving towards whoever you are really supposed to be with.”

Mark was quiet. His mouth small. Pensive.

Jinyoung’s words wouldn’t stop pouring out. Even though he wanted them to. “I’m scared of the way I feel for you,” he said. “I don’t understand how someone can feel something so strongly, so surely. Yet have no reason to.”

“No reason?” Mark questioned.

Jinyoung sighed. “Not like that,” he waved away. “Not like you aren’t worth it. But how deeply I feel just doesn’t seem to be justified by the situation. We don’t know each other that well. Yet, I am just a bottomless pit for you.”

“How can you say that we don’t know each other well?” Mark seemed to be getting slightly heated. “You know secrets I have never told anyone. And I know some about you that even he doesn’t know.”

Jinyoung’s head clouded in that realization.

“And you’re right,” Mark reasoned. “I haven’t known you since schooldays. I haven’t shared every accomplishment with you. I didn’t love you first. And yes, I’m not the man he is and I probably never will be.”

Jinyoung sighed but let him keep going.

Mark sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching to put a hand on Jinyoung’s knee. “But I know how I feel for you. I know that nothing bad could ever happen as long as I had you by my side.” Mark craned his neck, trying to read Jinyoung’s features.

They were blanketed by distance.

Mark sighed, pulling back. “I feel like you see this scenario only going one way. You are with me until …you’re not, for whatever reason, and then you can go back to loving him with your whole heart,” Mark’s hands knit together. “But there is another option. You could just be with me. Only me.”

Jinyoung felt his stomach churn, unable to meet Mark’s eyes.

“And I know that probably scares the shit out of you. And it probably should. But it is an option.” Mark paused. “So just promise you’ll think about it.”

Jinyoung swallowed hard, clouded by thoughts. Finally, he let out a nod. “I’ll think about it.”  
He got up from his spot. “I should probably be heading back.”

Mark got up too. He stood with Jinyoung in the doorway.

“Thank you,” he said. “For the coffee.” He wrung his hands nervously. “Sorry today got so heavy. I just… needed to say all that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jinyoung shook his head. “You should be able to speak your mind. Most of the time, you’re right.”

Mark’s eyes drew up to him, glittering. “I’ll see you soon?”

Jinyoung smiled, raising a hand to touch his face. “See you soon.”

Mark leaned in, kissing his lips featherlight. He lingered there, sweetly. Jinyoung felt his heart swell. They kissed once more before Mark pulled away. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” Jinyoung beckoned before walking out of that sanctuary and back to the real world.

\---

Jinyoung was about to enter the code into their front door when he heard voices from inside. At first, all he could hear was Jackson’s boisterous canter filling the air accompanied by Jaebeom’s even tone but he felt a wave of curiosity and put his ear against the door.

“I don’t know,” Jaebeom said. “He’s just been really distant lately, his mental health feels like it’s deteriorating, and he won’t talk to me about it.”

“You tried to ask him?”

“Yes,” Jaebeom rushed to say. “All the time but he keeps staying tight lipped. Changes the subject. Starts a fight. He never just tells me what he feels.”

“Well, he is stressed.”

“I know. But I know him. Even when he’s been stressed before, he’s always stayed open with me. He’s always came to me with his problems. But now it feels like he’s hiding all them from me. Hoping I don’t see them.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know. Part of me wants to draw the worst conclusions,” Jaebeom sighed. When he spoke again his voice was softer, “like what if he doesn’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“You know that couldn’t be true. You don’t just stop having feelings after five years of a rock-solid relationship.”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, audibly upset. “What if I rushed into this marriage thing? What if he’s not ready?”

“Well, you’d need to ask him,” Jackson said steadily. “But I trust he’s loyal and honest and with time he will tell you what is going on. It can’t eat away at him forever.”

Jaebeom made an exasperated noise. “I just hope it doesn’t eat away at us.”

Jinyoung couldn’t take anymore. He punched in the code and opened the door. “Hello,” he sing-songed. He toed off his shoes, seeing the boys on the couch. “Hey, Jackson,” he called. He slid in next to Jaebeom. “Hey, babe,” he kissed his cheek.

Jaebeom stared back at him, a slightly dazed smile against his lips. He was silent.

“Yeah,” Jackson broke the silence. “We were just going to go grab some food. Do you want to come?”

“Oh, I’m starving,” Jinyoung cried. “Let’s go.”

Jinyoung and Jackson got up from their spots, going to pull their shoes on. Jinyoung looked back to Jaebeom, “You coming, babe?”

Jaebeom looked at him for a moment, frozen. “Yeah,” he rushed. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

“Well, maybe you should raise your expectations of me,” Jinyoung winked at him. “Hurry, before I get cranky.”

“Oh, Jaebeom,” Jackson whined. “Please hurry up. We don’t need a temper tantrum like last time.”

\---

Spring was blooming and Mark and Jinyoung were laying on Mark’s bed. Their chests still bare from an early afternoon fuck. Mark’s face was nervous, his chest heavy.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Mark’s body was trembling.

Jinyoung shushed him, wrapping an arm around him. “You can do it,” Jinyoung held his clammy hand. “It’s time.”

Mark gave a long sigh that shuddered out of him. He picked up his phone, pressing the buttons and hearing the ring over the speaker phone.

“Hello?” said a voice on the other line in English.

“Mom,” Mark said, his face white. “How are you?”

Jinyoung could hear her sigh into the phone, her voice filling with emotion. She collected herself. “I’m good, my dear son. How are you?”

“I’m good,” Mark’s lips turned up in a slight smile. Jinyoung could see his eyes growing increasingly wet. “Listen. I am going to school right now. I have a week off for spring break. I wanted to come visit.”

A gasp rang out. “Really?”

“Yeah,” his voice choked up. A tear streamed down his face.

“Well, when would you be coming?”

“Uh,” Mark stuttered out. “Sunday? I’m sorry it’s so last minute. I just wasn’t sure about flights and such-“

“No, no,” his mom silenced him. “You don’t have to apologize. Please come. We want to see you.”

“Okay,” Mark nodded. “I’ll be leaving here tomorrow but landing on Sunday morning in LAX. I’ll send you the details. I’m gonna rent a car and come straight to your house.”

They could both hear Mark’s mom crying into the phone. “That would mean so much to us.”

“We will catch up. Lord knows we have a lot to talk about.”

“We sure do,” his mom laughed. “I love you, son. I can’t wait to see you.”

“I love you too, Mom,” Mark smiled. “I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and looked over to Jinyoung. His face was wet with tears.

“See?” Jinyoung wiped them with his fingertips. “Couldn’t have been more perfect.”

Mark laughed, choking out some more tears. He reached a hand up to Jinyoung’s face, feeling his skin softly. “Thank you,” he said, quiet but earnest. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Jinyoung smiled. “You could have,” he nodded. “But I’m glad I was here to help.”

“Hey,” Mark grabbed his hands. “It’s the first day of spring,” Mark spoke. “Why don’t we go walk around the lake and see the cherry blossoms.”

Jinyoung twisted his face. “But what if-“

“It’s okay,” Mark shook his head. “What are the chances?”

A short walk later, they were sipping their iced americanos as they passed under the cherry blossom trees. The sunlight filtering through the leaves onto their faces. Jinyoung had been right. Mark did look incredible against the pink of the flowers. He felt it hard not to reach out and hold his hand.

Jinyoung took a deep breath. “I got the offer,” he said offhandedly. “For the program in London.”

Mark turned to him, his eyes wide. He blinked. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Jinyoung shook his head, opening his mouth to force out something about it not being a big deal.

But Mark was faster and grabbed his arms, scooping him up quickly and easily. “You did it!” he repeated over and over again, jumping around in a circle.

Jinyoung felt the laughter falling out of his mouth uncontrollably, a hand over his mouth to damper the sound.

Mark put him down, spinning in a circle eagerly. “I knew you could. I read your statement. I knew it was perfect,” he rambled on.

“Mark, Mark,” Jinyoung reached for his hand, still chuckling. “It’s okay.”

Mark pulled Jinyoung’s hand closer, leaning in to kiss him.

It felt so different and Jinyoung struggled to think of why at first. But Mark kept kissing him and Jinyoung became aware of the breeze against his back and the sound of rustling blossoms overhead. The ideas of kissing Mark and being outside, in public, were so distant from each other in his mind. It was only then that he realized what he was doing and he pulled away hastily.

“I’m sorry,” Mark shook his head, still smiling. “I shouldn’t have done that. That was stupid.”

“No,” Jinyoung murmured. “I mean yes, it was. But don’t worry about it.”

Mark looked back, the glimmer of his eyes faltering for a moment. “What did he think?” Mark said softly.

The connotation was there. But Jinyoung wasn’t ready for it. His smile dropped. He looked down to his drink.

Mark sighed. “You haven’t told him.”

Jinyoung shook his head.

Mark had a hint of a smile still showing through. Like he was content with his small victory. “What’s he going to say?”

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung shrugged. “Three months is a long time to be away.”

“Listen,” Mark touched his shoulder. “I know I might not be the right one to say this. But if he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he will support you and be happy for you. I promise.”

Jinyoung thought for a moment. Playing out the scene in his mind. Trying to piece together the look on Jaebeom’s face when he hears. The angle of his wide smile, the excitement in his voice. “You’re right,” he agreed. “I will tell him.”

\---

Jinyoung practically ran home after him and Mark had finished their drinks.

He stormed in through the door. “Babe!” he shouted, toeing off his shoes hastily.

He saw Jaebeom in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against the threshold with his arms crossed. He was staring, his eyes slightly wide.

On the couch, a head of brown hair turned towards Jinyoung.

“Youngjae?” Jinyoung questioned. The boy looking out of place.

“Hyung,” Youngjae’s face was oddly flustered. “I just came over to bring your book back.” He gestured towards the coffee table. “Jaebeom said you wouldn’t be home for a little while so we were waiting for you.”

Normally, Jinyoung wouldn’t have questioned this. Youngjae had come over without Jinyoung there. But something about Jaebeom and Youngjae’s suddenly awkward posture made Jinyoung jump to the worst conclusions.

“Oh,” Jinyoung swallowed. “Jaebeom,” he looked up towards him. “Did you offer him a glass of water?”

“Oh no,” Youngjae shook his head. “It’s really fine. I should be go-.”

“Nonsense,” Jinyoung forced a laugh and threw a look over to his fiancé. “He always refuses even when he wants it. Get him a glass of water, would you?”

Jaebeom’s jaw seemed tense. “Sure,” he said, carefully, before disappearing into the kitchen.

When Jinyoung was sure he was gone, he quickly moved to the couch, sitting down too close to Youngjae, crowding him. “What did you tell him?” Jinyoung whispered. His voice as sharp as his eyes and his stomach breeding a colony of butterflies.

Youngjae blinked and seemed to shy away as he came closer. “I didn’t tell him anything. I told you I wouldn’t.”

“Youngjae,” Jinyoung warned.

“Hyung!” Youngjae’s eyes widened. “I am telling you. I didn’t say anything about Mark!”

“Shh!” Jinyoung’s eyes lit up and flicked over to the kitchen and back. “Why are you here then?”

“I honestly was just returning your book, you psycho!” Youngjae whispered harshly, motioning to the book. “Not everyone has a million ulterior motives behind what they do!”

Jinyoung sighed. He opened his mouth before he heard Jaebeom coming back into the room.

“Here you go, Youngjae,” Jaebeom put the glass down in front of him. There was a moment where Youngjae and Jaebeom’s eyes met and they seemed to be trying to communicate something to each other.

Jinyoung felt his eyes narrow. Could they? No, Jinyoung thought. No way. He shook the idea from his head.

“I actually promised Jackson I would…” Jaebeom ran a hand through his hair, shifting his weight between his feet.

“Of course,” Jinyoung nodded. “Just let me know when to expect you.”

Jaebeom nodded and ran his hand behind Jinyoung’s neck, giving it a small squeeze. “I will,” he headed towards the door. “Nice seeing you, Youngjae. Glad to see you’re recovering well. I heard that flu was pretty nasty.”

“Recovering?” Youngjae murmured under his breath before Jinyoung smacked his knee. “Yes,” he suddenly spoke up. “Much better. Thanks, hyung!”

After they heard the slam of the front door, Youngjae’s eyes shot to Jinyoung. “Hyung,” his tone was cutting.

Jinyoung felt the butterflies beginning to stretch his stomach. “Youngjae,” he said cautiously.

“I saw you today. I was at the lake with my brother to see the blossoms,” his face was deadly.

Jinyoung had no excuses lined up this time. “So, you aren’t just here to return my book,” he murmured under his breath.

“Not even the decency to go somewhere private.” Youngjae scoffed.

Jinyoung sank into his place on the couch.

“Look around you, Jinyoung,” Youngjae began. “Look at this house. Look at these photos. Look at this whole life you have worked so hard to build for you and Jaebeom.”

Jinyoung felt the butterflies’ wings turning sharp. The harsh edges slicing his insides.

“You are willing to give up all of this. Everything you have worked so hard for. For. One. Stupid. Fling.” Youngjae’s eyes were wide. “I get things seem stagnant and repetitive and this whole committing your life to one person thing seems a bit scary,” Youngjae went on. “But whether you want to admit it or not, this is your life now. Jaebeom is your life and he’s your dream and bargaining him like this is worse than bargaining your right arm. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Youngjae,” Jinyoung felt his voice raise, standing suddenly to escape the cloud of severity. “Do you think I haven’t thought about this at all? Do you think I wanted this to happen? I’ve been praying this is a phase since I first saw him and that was months ago and I just…” he sighed hard. “I can’t let go of this… sick, twisted feeling that he isn’t just a fling.”

Youngjae pursed his lips. “You think you love him?” he sounded disgusted. “Do you know how cliché you sound?”

“Stop!” Jinyoung shouted. “Stop acting like this is easy for me. What would you even know about love? Your ex dumped you because he couldn’t stand the idea of committing to someone as clingy as you.”

“I’m out,” Youngjae sighed. He stood up, waving his hands in surrender. “I don’t play like that. Not with my best friend. I’m trying to be your voice of reason here, Jinyoung. I’m trying to help.”

“Bullshit!” he bit back. “You’re just trying to get me to take the easy road because it’s what you would do.”

“Damn right I would,” Youngjae’s voice raised causing them both to pause. He sighed jaggedly. “You really don’t understand how good you have it. You have a great guy that truly loves you. That would do anything for you. That has worked so hard to build this life with you. That went down on one knee and promised to always be there for you. And you think that all these years, all this investment, and all these memories are disposable! You aren’t even stopping to think how much you are hurting him. You’re just continuing to hook up with this guy and pretending like Jaebeom can’t tell something is going on.”

Jinyoung paused. “What...” his voice small. “What do you mean he can tell?”

Youngjae sighed. “You’re so far gone, Jinyoung,” he shook his head, turning towards the door. “I can’t standby anymore and pretend this will work itself out.”

“Wait,” Jinyoung grabbed for his sleeve, trying to stop him. “You won’t… tell me you won’t.”

“God damn it,” Youngjae shook him off harshly. “I won’t tell him. But don’t you dare try and contact me until you’ve gotten your shit sorted.” He kicked his shoes on. “The Jinyoung I know wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t prioritize keeping a secret over taking care of the people who care for him.”

And with that, Youngjae stormed out, leaving Jinyoung alone once again.

\---

A few days later, Jinyoung was lying naked in Mark’s bed while the boy threw things into his suitcase. He rolled onto his stomach, resting his head between his arms.

“You can’t go to LA,” Jinyoung whined. “I’ll miss you too much.”

Mark smiled, continuing to pack.

“I’ll be back in a week. It’s just spring break,” Mark leaned over to kiss him again. “I’ll come back with a tan. I’ll bring you a souvenir. What do you want?”

Jinyoung folded his hands together, laying his chin against them. “Hmm,” he thought, blowing a piece of hair away from his face. “Sand.”

Mark narrowed his eyes. “Sand? Really?”

Jinyoung nodded. “Sand from the beach. I miss the beach.”

Mark looked at him for a moment. His eyes and smile warm. “Okay. I’ll bring you back some sand.” He threw a pair of sandals into the suitcase. “What will you be doing for spring break?”

Jinyoung hummed, “I don’t know. I don’t have any deadlines coming up for a little while so I may just relax.”

Mark gasped. “You know how to relax? Shocked.”

“Right?” Jinyoung smiled. “Maybe I’ll read a book for pleasure or-?”

“Spend time with your fiancé,” Mark said, not meeting his eyes.

Jinyoung paused. “Don’t start that the day before you leave, please,” he begged.

Mark nodded. “You’re right.” He looked at his watch. “Hey, shouldn’t you be leaving about now? So you can get home before him?”

Jinyoung checked his phone. “Probably,” he got up, pulling on his clothes.

“Here,” Mark grabbed his messenger bag and handed it to him.

Jinyoung threw it over his shoulder and reached out, pulling Mark into a tight embrace.

“I’ll miss you,” Mark whispered, holding him close.

“I’ll miss you more,” Jinyoung whispered, smelling his scent and rubbing his back. “When you look out over the ocean, just envision me on the other side. Calling you back to me.”

He could feel Mark smile against his shoulder. “I will.”

\---

Jinyoung made his way home as the streetlights were coming on. The sky was a deep pink hue as twilight illuminated the sky.

When he opened the door, it was dark. The shades had been drawn and little light was coming in. His eyes struggled to adjust. But when they did, he saw Jaebeom was sitting on the couch. His face was turned away and his posture was ramrod straight.

“Hey,” Jinyoung whispered as he pulled off his shoes and coat. “What are you doing home?”

He came around towards him. In his silhouette, he could see his fiancé was nursing a glass of something. “Jinyoung,” he spoke. His throat was thick and raw. “Where have you been?”

Jinyoung blinked, rounding the corner of the couch and having a seat while keeping his distance. Fearful that if he was too close, Jaebeom would be able to see the oncoming lies. “I was just at my office. I had to finish up some work.”

Jaebeom spun the contents of his glass, not rushing to words. “I’m going to give you one more chance,” he murmured. “Where have you been?”

Jinyoung felt his stomach sinking and his ears getting hot. “What do you mean?” he tried to keep his voice from shaking.

“Jinyoung,” his tone warned.

Jinyoung readjusted his crossed legs, his hands feeling at the seam in his jeans nervously. “I did stop by a friend’s house after, just for a second.”

“What friend?” Jaebeom’s eyes were coming into view. Cat-like, almost mocking, glazed with something unfamiliar.

Jinyoung licked his lips. “Just someone from school. You don’t know them.”

“I don’t know them,” Jaebeom repeated, holding the glass to his lips. “But I know of them.” He downed the last bit.

Jinyoung’s skin patched with heat and every nerve buzzed. “What are you talking about?”

Jaebeom sighed. “You know, I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt,” he started. “The late nights, the dates with Youngjae, your panic attacks. I really tried to tell myself it was nothing. That you were just stressed.”

Jinyoung couldn’t speak. He couldn’t believe this was happening. After having nightmares about this moment, wondering if it would ever even come. Getting too cocky in the secret. Maybe that was his downfall.

“But now I know that none of that was true,” Jaebeom shook his head. “And this person, who I thought I knew my whole life, who was my whole life, is a stranger to me.”

Jinyoung began to notice himself shaking. As if feverish. Trembling all over. His teeth chattering. “No,” he tried to speak up over the sound. “You’re wrong.”

“I never thought you would do this to me,” Jaebeom got up, pacing. He turned quickly. “How long?”

Jinyoung felt himself rocking backwards and forwards, his hands in his lap. The feeling of real pain coursing through him. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. “We met last semester but nothing happened… until…” his voice trailed off.

“How did you meet him?” Jaebeom’s voice was sharp.

“Jaebeom, please,” Jinyoung begged.

“Tell me,” Jaebeom’s throat was thick with tears. “I need to know.”

Jinyoung swallowed. “He was in my American Literature class. I helped him during office hours.”

Jaebeom seemed to be piecing the puzzle together. The timeline of events and the way they reflected in Jinyoung’s actions.

“I’m so sorry,” Jinyoung reached for Jaebeom, grabbing for his hands, his knees, anything.

Jaebeom pushed his hands away. “Fuck, Jinyoung,” he shook his head. “We had a good thing here.”

Jinyoung’s vision of him was blurring with tears. “We still do, Jaebeom.”

“How can you say that?” Jaebeom’s narrowed his eyes. “Do you think this is ok? Do you think I should just accept this?”

“I-“ Jinyoung swallowed down his tears. “I want to make this better.” Overwhelmed with an eagerness to please, to soothe. Feeling like he would do anything to take that look off Jaebeom’s face.

“You were just with him,” his tone biting. “How can you say that when you were just with him?”

Jinyoung covered his ears, feeling overly sensitive to the sound of his voice. He shook his head, “I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom grabbed his shirt, pulling their faces closer. His voice barely audible when he spoke with collected fury. “Jinyoung, tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

Jinyoung was unable to meet his eyes. He tried to wipe away the tears and snot.

Jaebeom held him there a minute. “How many times?”

Jinyoung rubbed his face roughly, feeling how hot it was. “I don’t know,” he cried.

Jaebeom’s hand shook for a moment. His face realizing. He dropped Jinyoung, walking away.

“I don’t want to see you right now,” Jaebeom said, calming himself. Combing his hands through his hair.

“Jaebeom please. We can do something. We can-“

Jaebeom cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Save it,” he shook his head. “I’m gonna leave for one hour. When I come back, I want you to be gone. And don’t you even think about coming back until I tell you to.” And with that he slammed the door on everything they ever had.

\---

Jinyoung sat on the bench at the bus stop. He had twenty more minutes till the bus came to take him uptown toward Youngjae. The night stretching out the times between regular service. The spring air was still around him but nevertheless dusted with something sweet.

His hastily packed duffel bag was next to him. A few days’ worth of shirts, a couple pairs of jeans, a toothbrush. Shoved it all in without a second thought as tears had poured down his face. His sleeves and cheeks feeling stale from all the salt.

He felt like he was melting into the bench. Like he had stopped existing. The look in Jaebeom’s eyes was everywhere his mind turned and the only way he could stop it was by stopping all his thoughts. Disappearing into himself.

His fingers moved before his mind did. Like muscle memory, finding Mark’s number tucked into the secret places of his phone. He heard the ring four times, almost thinking he wouldn’t pick up.

“Jinyoung?” Mark’s voice came through the line, heavy with sleep.

“Please,” Jinyoung choked out. His voice working meant all the emotions were starting to flood out again. “Come get me.”

Mark was silent for a moment. Jinyoung couldn’t help but picture the way he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes or the way his lips pursed in frustration. Mark sighed heavily. “Okay,” he finally said. “Where are you?”

Fifteen minutes later, Mark pulled up in his car. Jinyoung got in, throwing his bag into the trunk and sliding in alongside him. Mark’s eyes were weighted with sleep and stubble dotted his chin. He didn’t say a thing, just put his hand against Jinyoung’s leg and pursed his lips. They rode like this the whole way home, Jinyoung silent and clinging to reality and Mark making small circles with his thumb against his leg.

When they opened the door to Mark’s studio, they didn’t bother turning on the lights. Mark climbed into his bed, pulling Jinyoung over him.

Jinyoung didn’t have any tears left to cry. His face felt raw and swollen. He climbed up to Mark, wrapping his arms around his torso tightly and nuzzling his face into his neck. Letting his smell soothe him.

Mark swallowed before speaking. “He knows?”

Jinyoung’s chest quaked. He hugged his arms tighter. He nodded against Mark’s skin.

Mark gave a long sigh and an even longer pause. “I have to wake up early tomorrow,” Mark whispered against his hair. “I have to catch my flight.”

Jinyoung felt heavy all over at the idea of Mark leaving. He felt like he was the only string he had right now. The only thing grounding him in reality and distracting him from the guilt that was eating away at him. The idea of going without that nauseated him. The idea of this city filled with people who seemed against him terrified him.

“Maybe,” Jinyoung started, wavering. “I can come with you.”

Mark stiffened slightly. He pulled back and looked into Jinyoung’s eyes, carefully trying to assess the man behind them. “Are you sure?” he said steadily, putting a hand on the side of his face. “Do you have money for that?”

Jinyoung didn’t even think about it. He just nodded, knowing he couldn’t put a price on the feeling Mark gave him. It was like he was invisible to everyone but Mark. Mark was the only one who could truly see him.

Mark continued to look. Like he was trying to gauge the scenario. He sighed. “Okay,” he furrowed his brows. “We can buy you a ticket tomorrow morning. Alright?”

And though Jinyoung didn’t smile, he felt a weight off his shoulders knowing he wouldn’t have to leave Mark’s side. It was only then that he felt like he could just sleep.


	4. Tides

The sun was rising as they sat at the gate. Jinyoung had used his credit card to buy the ticket, shutting his eyes and ears to the price. He could see the unsure look in Mark’s eyes as he handed his card over. In the moment, he knew he was being irresponsible. But the regrets had been piling up so high over the past few months that this was just another one to add to the top.

He hadn’t let go of Mark’s hand seemingly since he picked him up the night before.

“Just tell someone,” Mark said softly, his face close. “Tell Youngjae.”

Jinyoung sighed, looking out the window over the tarmac. “He hates me right now.”

“Just tell him. You aren’t gonna have data or signal over there. People will think you got kidnapped or something if you don’t say anything,” Mark reasoned.

“Let them,” Jinyoung said under his breath. When he looked back, Mark was giving him a look of disapproval. He held his chest tight. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll text him.”

_Hey Youngjae. I don’t really know what I am doing yet but I just need some time away to regroup. I am heading to California with Mark. I won’t have cell service. If you need to contact me, I’ll be checking my school email when I have time._

His finger hovered over the send button for a long moment. He looked over to Mark who nodded in return. With that, he sent it.

The flight was eleven hours. Jinyoung's gaze was fixated out the window as the morning light poured over the ocean. An endless plane of crinkled tealed glass reflecting the white clouds. From this angle, it was hard to imagine how immense it was. The ocean he had never meant to cross. But like everything that was happening, it felt eerily unescapable. Like there wasn’t any universe where he stayed. Any universe where he wasn’t holding Mark’s hand.

He looked over to the boy. His ear buds were in and he was closing his eyes, not asleep but resting. His face was mostly calm except for a slight tightness in his brows. Jinyoung knew him well enough to recognize it. Though it was hard to pick apart what he was thinking. Jinyoung squeezed his hand, triggering him to open his eyes.

“You okay?” Jinyoung asked, over the loud white noise of the cabin in his ears. And perhaps it was ironic coming from him.

Mark considered for a moment, his face between thoughts for a moment. He nodded. “We’ll have time to talk when we are there.”

And in any other situation, it would have sounded ominous, but Jinyoung knew what Mark meant. That their journey would speak for itself.

“Get some sleep if you can,” Mark forced a smile.

They landed in the middle of the night, picking up their bags and their rental car. Jinyoung heard the English pouring from Mark’s mouth as if he’d greatly missed it. The air was dry and warm and Jinyoung had never felt anything like it before. Korean summers were monsoon wet and sauna hot. The desert was uncharted land. A feeling he couldn’t akin to anything else, so it felt fresh and raw and overwhelming. Like he knew that he’d never be able to separate this feeling from this moment.

“When are they expecting you?” Jinyoung asked when they were riding down the dark highway in a black Mustang. The mountains peaked against a charcoal sky, back lit by a haze of light pollution.

“Morning,” Mark said. “I didn’t want them to wait up for me so I just said I would come by in the morning.”

“What will we do till then?”

“I was gonna show you something,” the corners of Mark's mouth tugging upwards.

They pulled off the highway onto a dark, winding road. It was quiet with no cars but theirs. They passed the occasional driveway that led up to looming palatial mansions. Jinyoung leaned forward looking up out of the windshield. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Mark said, that pull of his mouth coming through in his voice.

They pulled into a lot with three spots but no cars in sight. Jinyoung looked out in front of them. They were at the edge of an overlook. And as Jinyoung stared out, fixated, his eyes glimmered and blurred the yellows and reds of the city lights.

“Come on,” Mark called, undoing his seatbelt and getting out. Jinyoung followed and they sat themselves on the hood of the car. Their eyes taking in the view. Their lungs breathing in the smoky air.

“Did you ever think you’d be here?” Mark whispered out into the night air, perking Jinyoung’s ears.

“No,” he shook his head, staring at the warm twinkle of the valley. “But now that I am,” he looked towards Mark, “it feels right.”

Mark looked back. Holding his eyes before pulling away, sighing. He reached for his hair, nervously combing through it. “I have to admit,” he said, uneasy. “I didn’t really agree with you coming.”

Jinyoung felt a tinge of nervousness come over his face. “Why?”

“I just,” Mark sighed again. Struggling to find the words. “I just kinda feel like I’m enabling you. Helping you run away from your problems.”

Jinyoung’s mouth flattened, his brows furrowed. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes,” Mark nodded, his eyes wide as if he couldn’t believe Jinyoung would ask that. “Sometimes you act like I’m a neutral player in this. But I’m not. You procrastinating these choices you need to make is of no benefit to me.”

Jinyoung was quiet. Knowing he was right.

“But” Mark started again, his voice growing warmer like that smoky air. “I can’t deny that I’m happy you’re here.”

Jinyoung tried to quell his growing smile.

Mark saw it anyway, returning it. “Look. I’m just as lost as anyone else in this. I don’t know what we are doing or what we are to each other. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want to show you my home and my family. I still want to fit you in all these corners of my life. I’m just trying not to feel like coming here is nothing more than an escape for you.”

Jinyoung swallowed, feeling his eyes water slightly from the heaviness of the discussion. He gathered his thoughts for a moment before speaking. “I’m here,” he started, “because of circumstances back home. But I don’t want you to think for a moment that this is only about me running away. I could have run anywhere." He looked in his eyes. "But I chose you.”

There was a moment after the words escaped where Jinyoung realized that out of context, those words could have meant something vastly different. Out of context, they were probably the words Mark had wanted to hear since the beginning. But this wasn’t the beginning and it also didn’t feel like an end. So Jinyoung was left feeling the weight of those words on his heart, like an empty promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.

Mark shifted himself closer to Jinyoung’s side. His hand moving up to hold the side of his face and pulling it towards him. Their eyes focused. “Let’s promise each other,” Mark whispered. The lights of the city reflecting across the deep brown of his eyes. “That we won’t think about what’s happened. Or what’s going to happen. That isn’t important right now. The only thing that matters is you and me.”

Jinyoung felt the warmth flood him, as if it was permeating from Mark’s skin and moving through all the blood in his body. He nodded. “Okay,” he whispered out. “Just you and me.”

Their smiles grew in unison and Mark leaned forward, kissing Jinyoung hard. Mark laid him down over the hood, licking into his mouth. Jinyoung snaked his arms around Mark’s torso, holding him tight.

Mark jumped up, grabbing Jinyoung’s hands. He dragged him back to the car, opening the door to the backseat and scooting across. He motioned for Jinyoung to follow him.

Jinyoung did, shutting the door behind him and crawling up into Mark’s lap. He kissed him again, a hand at the back of his neck while the other squeezed his thigh.

Mark’s hands slid under his shirt, feeling at the skin across his hips.

Jinyoung bit at his lips as his hand traveled closer to him, his thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of his jeans.

Mark grabbed Jinyoung’s shirt, pulling it over his head and into the front seat. He kissed his chest, sitting back and looking up at him.

“What?” Jinyoung whispered, almost self-conscious under his intent gaze.

Mark was smiling. His chest wide with a breath he was holding in. “I just…” he let it out. “I.” He paused, eyes glittering. He released an exasperated sound and covered his face with his hands for a moment. “You’re just great and stuff.”

“Great and stuff?” Jinyoung laughed, cocking his head.

Mark sighed. “Forget it,” he shook his head. He reached behind him and grabbed his shirt, pulling it off.

Jinyoung laughed, ducking down again and kissing him.

Mark’s hips began to rock against Jinyoung’s, trying to relieve the building pressure.

Jinyoung whimpered into his mouth. The sensation was powerful, albeit obscured by layers of fabric. When he pulled himself away, he could see how dark Mark’s eyes were becoming as the air in the car became more heated. Jinyoung smirked, kneeling himself on the floor of the car, fitting between his knees, looking up at him. He felt for the fly of his pants, swiftly undoing them with his thumbs.

Mark didn’t look away. The anticipation wore across his features, like a whine that Jinyoung couldn’t hear but he could see.

He grabbed the sides of Mark’s pants, tugging roughly. Mark lifted his hips as they slid off.

Jinyoung's movements melded together until they were fluid. He leaned himself in, taking Mark in his mouth. His tongue swirled over him, relishing how hard he was. His mouth open wide so Mark could see the brush of his tongue and the slick of his palate as he felt him.

Mark watched his mouth move against him, his eyes growing blurry and his mouth ajar. His lands looping around Jinyoung's face and neck, just holding him softly.

Jinyoung worked him in long strokes. Eager to taste, eager to hear. Eager to make someone happy. Because he was sick of making people upset. As he picked up speed, little gasps made Mark’s chest rise and fall rapidly. His eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed together. The body heat clouded the car and Jinyoung could see his neck glistening in the city lights with a fresh layer of dew.

Jinyoung didn’t relent and didn’t stop watching him as he let his hand twist in time with his mouth. His other hand finding its way underneath, reaching out to toy with his entrance.

Mark hips started to kick up, trying to get closer to his mouth and his fingers. His lips released a trail of hisses and whines and held breaths. The line of his eyebrows hardened. His fingers shaking against Jinyoung's skin. His mouth rounded. His shoulders caved. He came hard into Jinyoung’s mouth.

Jinyoung milked the last of him between his lips, pulling off him.

Mark looked down at him, cradling his chin in his hand. His eyelids heavy. “Let me see it,” he whispered through the darkness.

Jinyoung opened his mouth, letting him see the seed pool on his tongue. Reveling in the way Mark’s smile brightened in the dim glimmer. After a moment, Jinyoung retracted his tongue, closing his mouth and swallowing hard.

Mark sighed happily, swiping his thumbs against Jinyoung’s face as if feeling that he’s real.

Jinyoung sat back up onto the backseat and Mark shimmied his pants back on. “Maybe I should just close my eyes for a minute,” he said, sleepy.

“Maybe you should,” Jinyoung smiled and pulled him towards him. He let Mark’s head slip into his lap, feeling his breath even through the fabric of his own pants.

“Do you,” Mark started to say. “Do you need me to…”

Jinyoung smoothed a hand against his back, feeling the jut of his shoulder blades. “No, no, no,” he soothed. “Don’t worry. We have plenty of time. You close your eyes.”

And Mark did. And Jinyoung did. And there was a whole world outside of this car that didn’t even matter.

\---

When Jinyoung opened his eyes, there were tangled together. He was sitting nearly upright with his shoulders pressed up against the car door, feeling the warmth of the glass against his shoulder blades. Mark was nestled in between his hips, the weight of his ribs pressing into him. The sky was already blue and the air was already hotter than it had been. Jinyoung looked down to Mark. His face was beautiful and the skin on his shoulder was reflecting the morning light.

“Mark,” he whispered. He combed his fingers through his hair. “Wake up.”

Mark’s eyes fluttered. He tried to meet Jinyoung’s eyes, but the sun got him first and he groaned. He lifted himself onto his arms, hands feeling around. He checked the clock on his phone. “We gotta get going,” his voice was rough with sleep.

They didn’t talk for the entire ride to Mark’s house. His whole demeanor had shifted to something quiet and anxious. Jinyoung could see his white knuckles against the steering wheel, the way he held his breath for long periods of time before releasing something pent up.

When the car pulled to a stop, Jinyoung looked at a house. A smattering of traditional and Spanish style with palm trees framing the entrance. The sunlight was casting yellow hues through the leaves and the occasional gust of wind sizzled through the dry fronds. It was the prettiest music Jinyoung had ever heard.

He looked back to Mark. His eyes were glued to his family’s home. His mouth was small. His hands were fisted. He looked petrified.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he said quietly.

Jinyoung rarely saw Mark like this. Yes, there was part of Mark that was always teetering between sureness and unsureness. Jinyoung had always assumed it was a certain self-consciousness that came with the territory of being a foreigner in a distant land. But most of the time, Mark leaned more on the side of sure of himself. He was someone who knew himself; who never felt the need to act like someone else. Especially, in the way he interacted with Jinyoung. But this was very different. Mark was shutting down fast.

Jinyoung shifted towards him, reaching out to grab one of his hands. “Hey, now. Of course, you can,” he smoothed his thumbs against his skin.

Mark couldn’t look at him. “How could they forgive me? How could they still want me after what I put them through?” he breathed heavily, shaking his head.

“Because you’re their son,” Jinyoung said, his voice having an unexpected bite. “The only one they have left.”

Mark’s stopped, looking into Jinyoung’s eyes. You could see the pent up hurt that he hid from everyone else. An in the moment, Jinyoung knew what it felt like to run from your true feelings for so long that you forget how to look back.

“Think about your brother,” Jinyoung murmured. “Is this what he would have wanted his death to do? Divide you?”

Mark was silent for a long moment. The air heavy. “No,” he whispered, looking down. “He would have never imagined that.”

“Then go,” Jinyoung urged. “Build that bridge. You’ve been running from it for far too long.”

Mark took in a deep breath. He squeezed Jinyoung’s hand. When he spoke, the words were warm though his voice was detached. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Jinyoung didn’t need to see his eyes to know he meant it. He was glad, too.

They got out, padding up the front steps. Jinyoung had an urge to hold Mark’s hand but he didn’t.

Jinyoung held a finger over the doorbell. “You ready?”

Mark shifted between two feet, his hands not able to stop moving from his sides to his pockets and back again. He sighed hard, trying to regulate his breathing. He nodded.

Jinyoung pressed the doorbell and could hear the sound echo from inside. They waited for a moment before hearing footsteps. The door swung open. Mark’s parents were there. Their faces were open and friendly and their eyes wouldn’t leave Mark’s face.

“My boy,” his mom said, putting her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Clearly not wanting to let him go. “What did you do your hair?” she felt at it, mocking him slightly.

“Welcome home, Mark,” his dad smiled. His eyes looking glossy in the morning light.

Jinyoung could feel the warmth radiating off of them. The sun was shining brighter in this moment that seemed to stretch on. After long, tight hugs were exchanged, their eyes went from Mark to Jinyoung. Their smiles weakened slightly. Confused.

“Mom, Dad,” Mark said, his voice already having grown more confident. “This is Jinyoung. He’s been a really great friend to me in Korea. He is on spring break too, so he decided to come with me.”

There was a moment of realization before their faces shifted back to their friendly constant. “Welcome to America!” Mark’s dad came forward, opening his arms to hug him.

Jinyoung took it but felt a bit overwhelmed. He wasn’t used to this level of informality.

“Have you been before?” Mark’s mom questioned as she leaned in to hug him. Her words were slow and steady enough for Jinyoung to keep up.

“No. This is my first time,” he said, feeling uncomfortable with speaking English but putting in considerable effort.

“Well we can’t wait to show it to you,” she said. “Both of you. Let’s go inside. I can show you the house.”

Mark’s mom gave them the tour. Jinyoung could feel Mark’s giddiness shifting in and out of uneasiness. They went upstairs. There was a door at the top of the stairs. Mark’s mom seemed to hesitate. “I don’t know if you want to see it,” she said to him.

Mark held in a breath. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I do.”

She opened the door. The room was an opulent white. Navy blue curtains hung in the bright window. There was a large bed centered in the room, an ironwork headboard curved into delicate designs. The sheets were white, but the pillows picked up the navy along with an array of seashell shapes. Outside of that, the room was plain. A small bookshelf against one wall. A chair in the corner. Only the basics.

Mark’s voice cut through the space. “You changed it?” Something in his tone was off. Jinyoung couldn’t place the emotion.

“Last year,” she nodded. Her voice heavy but sure. “We decided it was time.”

There was silence. A long drawn out stretch of it. Mark was staring at the room, unable to unfreeze from the moment.

His mom clapped her hands together. “You want to show Jinyoung your room?”

Mark broke away from his reverie. “Yeah. Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course. Why don’t you both clean up,” his mom offered. “Are you hungry? You want some breakfast?”

“Yes. We’re starving.”

“Okay,” Mark’s mom smiled. “Just come down when you’re ready.”

Mark ventured further down the hallway and Jinyoung followed. He opened the last door. Inside, the room was painted a deep charcoal grey. Music posters, skate decks, and photos lined the walls, a mix of gymnastics and martial arts trophies on the shelves. The sheets on the twin bed a standard blue plaid.

Jinyoung looked into the photos on the wall. A small Mark proudly holding his trophies or posing with his family, often a beach in the background. “You were so little,” he laughed. His eyes falling onto a picture of Mark. His teenage hair red and frazzled. He was hugging a smaller boy close to him. Jinyoung felt a pain in his chest. “Is this him?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

He turned back to Mark who was sitting on the bed. The boy nodded. His face twisted.

Jinyoung went and sat down on the bed with him. He could see that something was on his mind. Bringing down the bright energy of the interaction. “What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t believe I’m here. My room. It’s the same,” he looked around, his eyes wide.

Jinyoung looked with him. He felt like he could feel high school Mark in this room. Hear his music playing too loud. Feel his flashes of uncontrollable rage. Jinyoung’s eyes traveled upwards to the shelves. His eyes scanned across. Stopping. An old globe sat all-seeing. The brass was blackened in spots. The multicolored countries were faded. He thought back to Mark’s story.

“I don’t get it,” Mark’s voice was thick. “They didn’t touch my room, yet they transformed his. How could they do that? Like he meant nothing.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung refocused, reaching out to hold his hands. “You could come back. He couldn’t.”

Mark’s mouth narrowed. He didn’t seem content with that.

“You need to give yourself a break,” Jinyoung said firmly. “This trip is bound to be full of mixed emotions. Your parents have been here trying to put their life back together. But you never got a chance to grieve. You’re walking into this house and it’s feeling like the day he left all over again. Can you just be patient with yourself?”

Mark was silent for a long moment. “I can try,” he sighed. “Just… bear with me.”

Jinyoung squeezed his hands. “Always.” The word bittered in his mouth.

They both set their bags up in the room. They took turns showering the yellow dust of Seoul spring off their skin. They came downstairs together, the smell of fresh food filling the air.

“I made you plates at the table,” Mark’s mom beckoned towards the breakfast nook where Mark’s dad was sitting, scrolling on a tablet.

They sat down to plates overflowing with food. Jinyoung didn’t ask what it was, knowing that Mark was a smattering of Taiwanese and American and seeing that reflected in the food. They hastily began to eat.

“I hope you don’t mind but your sister is coming over with the family,” Mark’s mom called out from the kitchen.

Mark was midbite. “The family?” he questioned around his food.

“Yes,” his mom smiled. “Her daughter.”

“Daughter,” Mark said under his breath, his face one of placid shock. “I’m an uncle?”

“Yup,” his father laughed. “If you don’t feel tired now, don’t worry. She’ll wear you out.”

Mark’s dad wasn’t wrong. From the moment Mark’s niece came in, the tranquil feel of the house felt roaring with energy.

Mark’s sister hugged her brother close. Jinyoung could see her whispering in his ear. Could see the way Mark nodded back, smiling. She picked little girl up, bringing her to Mark’s level.

“This is Uncle Mark,” she said clearly.

Mark’s eyes shown vibrant. Jinyoung thought he might cry but he didn’t. The sight stirred up something in Jinyoung that he didn’t expect. As if Mark and children hadn’t existed on the same plane until this moment. He caught his mind wandering to thoughts he shouldn’t think. He reeled himself back to the moment.

His sister turned towards him. “And this is Uncle Mark’s friend. Can you say hi?”

Little girl smiled, hiding her face in her hands. She squirmed out of her mother’s arms, running in between Mark’s mom’s legs.

“Sorry,” Mark’s sister sighed, pulling her hair back and tying it up. “She’s something else.”

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung shook his head. “Nice to meet you.” He reached out a hand and she shook it.

“You as well,” she smiled sincerely before her attention was turned back to the ball of energy who was on the run again.

It took minutes for little girl to redirect the family outside so that she could swim while the adults visited. Mark’s family talked, the conversation flowing easily and in and out of Mandarin and English. Jinyoung was struggling to keep up with the details but he could follow along. The conversation went from Mark’s sister to her work to her daughter. Then to Mark to Seoul to school to learning Korean.

Mark turned to him. “They want to know how good my Korean is,” he said to him in Korean.

Jinyoung smiled. “It’s excellent,” he told his family. They laughed.

“It’s kind of funny right,” he continued to him in Korean. “We have this like secret language. I could say anything to you right now.”

Jinyoung tutted, “Don’t be crude.” He turned back towards the family, seeing Mark’s sister’s eyes on him.

“What are you studying, Jinyoung?” Mark’s sister asked.

“Literature,” he nodded.

“Oh. Like Korean literature or English literature?”

“Both,” he smiled. “But English literature is my favorite.”

“He’s getting his masters,” Mark stated. “He defends his thesis in a few weeks.”

“Wow. Congratulations,” Mark’s dad smiled. “You should be very proud. What’s next for you?”

Jinyoung understood the question but froze in formulating a response. His eyes flashed over to Mark, uneasy.

“He got accepted for a summer research position in London,” Mark rushed to say. “He’s still deciding though.”

“London is amazing,” Mark’s mom piped in. “It’s great to know that Mark’s friends are such hard workers.”

The family kept talking. Mark asked about their family friends and how they were doing. They spoke of vacations they had taken together. Memories they made. They laughed. And Jinyoung laughed with them, soaking in the energy. The day faded into night and Mark’s mom called them in for dinner. They ate too much until they were all lounging sleepy and wearing the same small grins. Even little girl was beginning to blink too long.

“We should get going,” Mark’s sister. “She’s going to pass out any minute.”

They collectively got up, ready to walk her out.

She hugged Mark for a long time, “This was fun.” Jinyoung heard her whisper. “I missed this.”

“Me too,” Mark said back, sighing hard. They pulled away. Mark’s niece ran up, grabbing onto her mom’s pants.

“Can I bring her over tomorrow?” Mark’s sister hoisted her onto her hip. “I have some stuff I need to get done.”

“Of course,” Mark’s mom said.

“Park, park,” she whined and Jinyoung’s ears momentarily perked at the word. “I wanna go to the park.”

“Jinyoung and I will take you,” Mark offered.

“Yay!” she cheered. “Mom, Uncle Mark is gonna take me-“

“I know, sweetie,” she laughed, mouthing a thank you to them. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you too, sis,” Mark said, hugging her one more time.

\---

“You boys are okay in your room?” Marks mom asked. “I could get the guestroom ready for Jinyoung. It would only take a second.”

“No,” Mark waved her away. “He can use the trundle. It’s fine.”

She nodded. “Okay,” her voice had a lighthearted tone to it that Jinyoung couldn’t interpret. “Good night, boys.”

“Good night,” they said in unison, climbing the stairs towards Mark’s room.

Once inside, they changed into their pajamas. Mark pulled out the trundle. Jinyoung finally realized what Mark had been saying. “You don’t have to sleep here.”

“Good cause I wasn’t going to,” Jinyoung said, climbing into Mark’s twin bed.

Mark smiled and climbed in next to him. He lay flat on his back, a hand behind his head. Jinyoung curved around him, his head on his shoulder and his back against the wall.

Mark looked up to the ceiling, sighing. “It’s crazy you’re here. You are in my childhood room. My childhood bed.”

Jinyoung felt himself smile against the fabric of Mark’s tee. “How many times did you jerk off in this bed?”

Mark scoffed. “Hundreds of times, easily.”

Jinyoung felt a flash of warmth, feeling a little turned on by the thought. He moved his head upwards so that his lips were catching on the skin of Mark’s ear. “Show me.”

Mark was still for a moment. Jinyoung assumed he was conjuring a witty response to tell him off. But then he saw his hand comb down his body. He reached for the edge of his t-shirt, pulling it back and exposing the skin of his torso. Jinyoung could see the edge of his underwear peeking above his sweatpants. He could imagine how the skin there felt, smooth and soft and never ending.

Mark’s hand felt himself through the fabric, squeezing slowly and releasing. He was getting visibly hard and Jinyoung could see the outline show through. The imprint of it conjuring memories of how it felt.

Mark lifted his hips, pulling the fabric down just far enough to expose himself. Jinyoung felt his mouth water.

Mark smoothed his hand over himself, beginning to tug in even strokes. His eyes closed and his head rolled back.

Jinyoung watched him, feeling the twitch between his own legs.

“What would you think of?” Jinyoung’s voice was low and rough in his own ears. “When you touched yourself like this, what would think of?”

“Boys like you,” Mark whimpered under his breath.

“What do you mean boys like me?”

“Pretty boys with smooth voices, tight hips, perfect smiles that go all the way to their eyes, and your mouth. Oh fuck, your mouth,” he hissed, arching himself upwards towards his hand.

Jinyoung felt his own hand dipping into his pajama pants, unable to stop himself. He watched the way Mark’s hand moved, mimicking it with his own. He saw the way his stomach quivered. The way his mouth was small in thought.

“But I never could have imagined you,” Mark hissed. “Nothing comes close.”

Jinyoung felt a flood of warmth paint his skin. “Open your eyes,” he whispered.

Mark did, looking into his face and traveling down his body, seeing the gap in his pants where his hand was working. His hand picked up speed.

His body began to shake, sending out tremors to his shoulders, the muscles in his arms, his chest. His mouth got tighter as he kept in the sounds Jinyoung could tell he was desperate to let out. He sighed hard as he came against his hand and the skin of his stomach.

Jinyoung couldn’t think of anything more beautiful.

“Fuck,” Mark sighed again, before looking to Jinyoung. “Come here.” He moved with immediacy. His hand reaching out for Jinyoung. He pulled the elastic of his pants down aggressively. He laced their fingers together, taking control, increasing his rhythm. Running his thumb over the tip and spreading the mixture of his cum and Jinyoung’s precum into their hands. The sudden slickness had Jinyoung arching himself. He held his breathes for long stretches of time before releasing them.

Mark kept going, his tongue jutting out of his mouth in concentration. Watching the way their hands slid together. When he looked up, he could see it in his face. “You’re so close,” he whispered.

“Don’t,” Jinyoung swallowed. “Don’t stop.”

Mark smirked. “I’d never. I love this. God, I love seeing you like this.”

Mark’s voice, low and maddening in his ears, was too much. His lips began to trail out a moan, but Mark kissed him hard to damper the sound. Jinyoung came into their hands.

They laid like this for a while. Their faces close, smiling. Their hands intertwined. The seed drying against their skin.

“I should go clean up,” Mark finally said. “Can I grab you a towel?”

“Yes, please,” Jinyoung replied. But they still didn’t move.

Mark leaned forward kissing him, slowly and sweetly. Lingering against his lip for long drawn out moments that Jinyoung relished. He pulled back; his face still close. Jinyoung could feel his breath against his lips.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Jinyoung whispered.

Mark smiled. “Do what?”

“You just…” he sighed, struggling to find the words. “You make me feel like this whole world was created just so we could find each other in it.”

Mark huffed a laugh. He brought his hand up, smoothing it against Jinyoung’s face. “What if it was?” he whispered. “I’ll be back,” he said, kissing him once more before getting up.

And Jinyoung knew in that moment that Mark didn’t need him to reply. That the confirmation was written all over his face. He was left silent and reeling and clutching his chest, as if the feeling overtaking him could break him at any moment.

\---

When Jinyoung woke up, he was alone. He got ready, padding down the staircase. He could see out the glass doors. He could see Mark and his parents. They were seated close together, their deck chairs circled. Mark’s hands were between his knees, nervous. Their faces were serious.

Jinyoung felt like he was walking in on something that wasn’t for him. He backed himself up the stairs, going back in the room.

He went and took a shower, busying himself but unable to get the image of Mark out.

When he came back down the stairs, Mark’s mom was setting out food. “Good morning,” she smiled.

“Good morning,” he nodded. He sat down next to Mark. He looked in his face. His eyes were red. He had been crying. Jinyoung put a hand on his knee under the table momentarily. He squeezed it before letting go.

“Eat up, Jinyoung,” Mark’s mom said. “You’ll need your energy for today,” she laughed.

A little while later, they were back in Mark’s room, changing. “Is something wrong?” Jinyoung watched him from the bed.

“No,” he pulled a shirt over his head. “Just… I was talking with my parents this morning. We spoke about everything that happened.”

“That couldn’t have been easy,” Jinyoung’s voice steady.

“It wasn’t,” Mark’s voice raspy. “But they forgive me.”

“Of course, they do. They love you.”

“They do,” Mark nodded, thinking to himself.

Jinyoung got up from the bed and pulled him into his arms.

“What’s this for?” Mark murmured, returning the embrace.

Jinyoung shrugged, not letting go. “You just looked like you needed it.”

Mark chuckled, pulling at his clothing. “You’re wearing this to the park?”

Jinyoung pulled away, looking down at his tailored pants, his long sleeve tee. He sighed. “Look, I didn’t pack for California.”

Mark laughed, rummaging through his suitcase. “Take this.” He threw scraps of fabric at him.

Jinyoung caught them, holding them out in front of him. A pair of jean shorts. The edges frayed. He unfolded the shirt. It was a crisp white tank.

“I’m not wearing this,” he shook his head.

“Come on,” Mark whined. “It’s eighty-something degrees out.”

Jinyoung sighed.

“Do it this one time and I’ll never ask you to do it again,” Mark smiled, clasping his hands together as if he was begging.

Jinyoung tutted. “You better be glad we aren’t Korea,” he rolled his eyes as he took off his shirt.

They drove little girl to the park, singing along to Disney the whole way. They pushed her on the swings until they thought their arms may fall off. They chased her around the open grass until there were tears in their eyes from laughing. Finally, they came upon a fountain at the far end of the park. She went right for it, soaking her clothing as she hopped across the waterspouts. Jinyoung laughed before going to sit on a nearby bench. He felt his breaths slowing back down. He felt the sun against his shoulders. Mark came up, placing his hands against his bare thighs and sliding them up slightly. He got his face close. “You look so fucking hot,” he whispered. “I love seeing your shoulders.”

Jinyoung smiled but pushed him off hastily. “Stop.”

Mark sat next to him, their backs against the bench. Her giggles punctuated the sound of flowing water. They watched on as she ran in circles.

Jinyoung took in a quick breath. “Can I ask you something?” he didn’t wait for a reply. “Does your family think we are together?”

Mark laughed, “probably.”

“Well,” Jinyoung tugged at the neck of his shirt. “Did you tell them we aren’t?”

Mark scoffed, “Do you think they’d believe me if I did?”

Jinyoung didn’t need to answer.

“They like you,” Mark smiled.

“They wouldn’t if they knew.”

Mark shrugged. “Then make it so there's nothing left to know.”

Jinyoung didn’t look at him but he knew exactly what he meant. He sometimes couldn’t believe how offhanded he could be about it. Like it was that easy.

They stewed in the silence between them until Mark’s niece ran up, saying she was hungry.

The boys took her to get ice cream. As Jinyoung sat across the booth from Mark and her, she whispered in Mark’s ear.

He laughed, “she wants to know why you talk funny.” Mark spoke back to her in a mix of languages.

She whispered to him again.

“She wants to learn,” Mark said.

“Learn Korean?” Jinyoung, replied in English, widened his eyes.

She nodded.

Jinyoung put his ice cream to the side and clapped his hands together. “Okay! Let’s begin.”

By the time they got home, Mark’s niece was able to stand in front of the living room and count to ten in Korean.

His mom and dad clapped. “Wow! Very good!” they cheered. “Who taught you that?”

“Jinyoung,” she smiled. “He’s a good teacher.”

“I agree,” Mark nodded, reaching out to give her a high five.

\---

Later that night Jinyoung was sitting in the living room, reading a book. Mark had gone to help his dad pick up pizza for dinner. Little girl was taking a nap in the guest bedroom. Mark’s mom came in and sat next to him. “I got you some water. You must be tired from today.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Jinyoung nodded.

“Mark said you were his teacher?”

“Teaching assistant, yes,” Jinyoung nodded. “He was my best student. We became friends after that.”

“He’s so grown up now,” she looked over to his pictures on the wall. His young face smiled back. “But I guess that’s what living on your own will do for you.”

“He’s amazing. You should be proud of him.”

“I am,” she agreed, looking down in thought for a moment. “I didn’t think I would see him again,” she said. “It was so hard losing both of them like that,” her voice thickening. “You never imagine losing a child. It’s the one thing you try your hardest not to think about. But then when you lose two at once. And the youngest ones. It’s impossible.”

“I can’t imagine,” Jinyoung said. He thought for a moment. Feeling out the words in his head first. “I think he was just hurt. And young. He didn’t know what to do.”

She nodded, reflecting on what he was saying. “I want to thank you,” she said. Her eyes glossy. “For bringing him home to me.”

Jinyoung blinked. Confused.

“He told me you pushed him to reach out,” she smiled.

Jinyoung shook his head. “No. I really didn’t do much. He wanted to,” he looked up to his pictures on the wall. “He just needed a little help.”

They didn’t speak for a long moment. And it should have felt uncomfortable, but it didn’t. Mark’s mom cleared her throat. “You two are good together.”

“Oh, we’re not-“Jinyoung rushed to say.

“I don’t care what you are,” Mark’s mom waved him away. “I’m glad he has you.”

Jinyoung sat back. Her eyes were warm. Earnest. He felt himself grin. “I’m glad I have him, too.”

\---

It was the next morning. “Time to wake up,” Jinyoung heard distantly. He became aware of the hot breath on his ear. The weight against his body. The smell of cinnamon candy.

He groaned, turning towards the wall.

“We gotta go,” Mark put his head on his shoulder.

“What are we doing today?” Jinyoung sighed, turning his body towards him. He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“Pack your bag and I’ll show you,” Mark kissed him quickly, getting up and changing his clothes.

“Pack my bag?” his furrowed his brow. “Where are we going?”

“No more questions,” Mark said. “Come on.”

Jinyoung complied. When they went downstairs, Mark’s parents were watching morning television while sipping their coffee.

“We’re heading out,” Mark shouted. “We’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Mark’s dad said something in Mandarin.

“No,” Mark replied along with a string of words.

“Well, have fun, you two,” Mark’s mom smiled. “I’ll keep the key under the mat tomorrow night. Let yourselves in.”

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” Mark waved.

“Thank you,” Jinyoung called, following him. “See you soon.”

When they were out the door, Jinyoung asked. “What did your dad say?”

“He just asked if you knew where we’re going. I told him you didn’t,” Mark unlocked the Mustang, opening Jinyoung’s door for him.

“How do they know where we’re going?” Jinyoung whined slightly.

“You’ll understand when we get there,” Mark smiled, closing his door.

Mark put in the directions and Jinyoung could see they were traveling two hours away. But he didn’t ask any more questions.

Mark played the radio on the ride there, tapping his hands against the steering wheel and pushing up the sunglasses on his face. He sang along to the songs he knew.

Halfway there, they stopped off the highway, pulling into an In-N-Out.

“Is this the surprise?” Jinyoung joked.

“No,” Mark laughed. “I just figured you’d be hungry.”

Jinyoung had to remember that they weren’t in Korea. Instinctively, his heart rate was a little higher as they went inside and saw the restaurant filled with people. His eyes darted to see if he knew anyone. Feeling the inherent risk. But when he looked around and didn’t see another Korean in sight, he realized that they were free here.

“Would you ever move back here?” Jinyoung asked as they were finishing up their meal.

Mark took another sip of his shake, pensive. “Yeah,” he said. “I would love to be closer to my family. But it would all have to line up. My job, my lifestyle, my partner.”

Jinyoung nodded, putting another fry between his teeth. If his relationship had taught him anything, it was that lining all of those things up was difficult.

“It would be hard to leave Seoul,” Mark said. “It was the first place that was ever just mine. I think I feel a sense of ownership over it.”

“What wouldn’t you miss about Seoul?”

Mark thought. “The sound of people spitting on the street. Cigarette smoke. How no one is spatially aware when they’re in your way. Speaking formally.”

Jinyoung laughed. “Jesus. Don’t hold back,” he joked. “What would you miss?”

“Everything else. Yugyeom and BamBam. How all the food and the seasons are either boiling hot or ice cold. The way Korean sounds when you’re moaning it.”

Jinyoung felt warm. He hummed. “I suppose the good outweighs the bad, then?”

“I suppose,” he agreed, smiling. He looked at his watch. “We should get going. We still have another forty-five minutes,” Mark grabbed the keys off the table and got up.

The highway went from five lanes of traffic to two. They snaked against it as they drove. Jinyoung looked out the window, he could see the Pacific Ocean glittering in the afternoon light.

Mark put the windows down, letting the wind whip through their hair. Occasionally, he would look over to Jinyoung, smiling and laughing.

“It’s so hard not to kiss you right now,” Jinyoung smiled and kissed the back of his hand.

“Save it for where we are going.”

They pulled up to a house that was all white and glass. It was so clear that the glass looked turquoise from where they stood in the driveway. “Whose house is this?” Jinyoung asked, feeling like they were in the wrong place.

“It’s one of my dad’s friends. But they let us borrow it from time to time when they aren’t in town. Growing up, we would always do long weekends here when we had breaks from school.”

“So, your family is meeting us here?”

“Nope. Tonight, it’s just for you and me,” Mark smiled. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

They grabbed their bags and walked inside. It was like a glass box and from the front door, Jinyoung could see the way the beach opened up in front of them. He hurriedly took off his shoes. He ran to the glass doors. “This is…” he stuttered. “This is insane. It’s like something out of a film.”

Mark laughed. “I know,” he shook his head. “My parents suggested it. Said it would be nice for us to spend time together.”

Jinyoung threw open the French doors of the bedroom. It was massive and a California king enrobed in crisp white sheets sat in the center of the room, overlooking the ocean. Jinyoung didn’t even think before he dropped his bag and jumped into the bed.

“God,” Jinyoung whined into the pillows. “This is the best bed I’ve ever laid in.”

“It’s certainly the biggest,” Mark offered, seeing the way it stretched out around him. He joined him, crawling up to his side. “I’ll barely be able to find you when we sleep.”

“Uh, sleep,” Jinyoung whimpered. “I’m still so fucking jet lagged.”

“Same,” Mark sighed. “Let’s take a quick nap and then we’ll wake up and go explore. Okay?”

Jinyoung nodded and reached out. He pulled Mark closer to him, flipping him so that he tucked into the curl of his body. “Only dream of me,” he whispered, feeling his eyelids get heavier and heavier until there was nothing but the sound of the ocean crashing outside.

\---

When Jinyoung opened his eyes, the sky was a dark blue. He blinked; rubbing his eyes, feeling heavy all over, and trying to guess what time of night it was. He leaned over to the nightstand and looked to his phone. Six in the morning. They had slept for… he struggled to do the math in his head… almost fifteen hours.

He sighed and turned towards Mark. He stopped, looking at the way his hair fell towards his eyes and how he seemed to move as if he was dreaming.

He put a hand through Mark’s hair, combing it away from his face. “Mark,” he whispered.

Mark took a deep breath in. “Hmm,” he responded, his eyes still closed.

“We need to wake up. We overslept,” he smiled at the way Mark’s eyebrows scrunched.

“Overslept?” he questioned, unable to open his eyes.

“It’s 6am,” Jinyoung chuckled. “So much for exploring.”

Mark stretched his arms out, pushing himself up and yawning hard.

“Come on,” Mark said, slapping Jinyoung’s leg. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Jinyoung sat up.

“To the beach.”

“Now?” Jinyoung looked back towards the clock for emphasis.

“Of course, now.” Mark got up hastily, grabbing a blanket off a chair in the corner. He slid open the doors to the deck, jogging out, down the stairs towards the water.

Jinyoung sighed, watching him fade against the indigo sky. He got up, jogging after him, feeling the salty air as his feet reached the sand.

Mark sat himself down on the beach, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and holding out an edge of it. He craned his neck towards Jinyoung as he ran up.

He smiled and huddled himself into the space under Mark’s arm, pulling the blanket around his shoulder. The sand seeped a cool dampness into Jinyoung’s jeans as he clung to Mark’s side. The breeze was strong, spraying salt onto his face and hair as the sky was just beginning to shift from deep blues to lighter greys. The sand grit between their feet tangled together under the blanket. They sat there for what felt like hours but, in reality, was minutes. While they weren’t facing the sun, they could see the expanse of sky turn colors around them. The moon steadily descending towards the horizon.

Jinyoung sighed, nostalgically. “Did I ever tell you why I like the beach?”

Mark shook his head. “Because you grew up by the water?”

“Well, yeah. But more than that,” he started. “It’s just the one place where everything feels… okay. Where you can only exist in the present moment,” he said, calmly. His eyes never straying from the warming horizon. “People spend so much time living in the past or the future. But the beach feels like the only place where all that matters is now. And that now feels like a never-ending beginning of limitless possibilities.”

“It makes you feel hopeful,” Mark said simply. The blues turning to pinks that began to bleed orange. “A reset. A fresh start.”

Jinyoung’s eyes fell over Mark’s profile. He felt his body force in a deep breath; the swell of his chest as it filled with the thought. “Yeah,” he agreed. “A fresh start.”

“I want this one day,” Mark said, eyes not wavering from the horizon.

Jinyoung furrowed his brow. “Want what?”

Mark blinked, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “A beach. A home,” he swallowed. “You to share it with me,” his voice faltered.

Jinyoung felt a warmth flooding his veins the same way the warm colors were flooding the sky. “Look at me,” he said.

Mark pulled his eyes away from the ocean. A tinge of nervousness behind them.

“I want that to,” Jinyoung smiled.

And he knew there were things he couldn’t tell Mark. But this was as close to a promise as he could get.

Mark seemed to know this. His face radiating and he leaned in, kissing Jinyoung sweetly. He pulled back, looking into his eyes. “Jinyoung,” he said, softly.

“Yes?” he looked back. The wind was blowing Mark’s blonde hair into his eyes. He reached up, pulling it away from his face.

“I really,” Mark sighed. “really,” he swallowed.

Jinyoung watched his eyes flick down towards his neck. His lip went between his teeth. He had the urge to kiss him and feel the mix of teeth and skin. To never stop kissing him.

Mark looked back the house. “Come on,” he stood up, offering his hand to Jinyoung.

He took it and they ran back up to the house, kicking up sand with their bare feet but not caring when they tracked it over the wood floors, crashing on top of the bed. They found each other’s lips again and their hands clamored over their bodies, moving up the edges of their shirts to pull them over and off. The kisses were bruising and Jinyoung felt each and every one deep inside. He kissed him like he had something to prove. Trying to communicate to him how intensely he felt. This feeling that never came close to any other emotion he had ever had.

“God,” Mark cursed. “I need you,” he whispered. “I need all of you.”

“Then take me,” Jinyoung breathed out, thinking he would probably do anything Mark wanted right now.

Mark got up momentarily to shove off his pants and Jinyoung did the same from where he lay, kicking them off to the floor. No coyness. Nothing to hide.

Mark picked him up, dragging him up on the bed. He kissed him more, feeling the brush of their skin. How hard they were for each other. How badly they needed this.

Mark pulled away, letting his fingers roughly feel at Jinyoung’s lips. Sliding two of them between his teeth and letting him drench them with his saliva. He removed them, sliding down and working one against his opening.

Jinyoung felt his legs fall open, eager and pliable in Mark’s hands. He gripped the headboard above him and feeling the muscles in his arms tensing. He felt the resistance giving way to softness, to eagerness, as Jinyoung relaxed around his fingers. He pushed his hips against him, letting a whimper fall from his mouth.

Mark removed his fingers and got off the bed. He went to his bag in the corner, rummaging with intensity until he found what he was looking for. He climbed back into the bed, sitting on his knees between Jinyoung’s legs, squeezing lube onto himself and rubbing it in, quickly. He wiped the access against the sheets and moved his hands to Jinyoung, opening him back up and massaging him.

“Please,” Jinyoung begged, throaty and desperate. “Give it to me.”

Mark smirked and pulled his fingers away. He slid himself into him, letting out a shaky breath at the sensation.

Jinyoung wrapped his legs around Mark, desperate to pull him closer, squeezing him against him. He felt himself filling up.

Mark lay his hands against the headboard, hovering over him and looking over his torso greedily. He tilted his hips, rolling himself in and out of him.

Jinyoung put a hand behind Mark’s neck, pulling him close until their chests were flush. He licked into his mouth, hands running over his sides. He leveraged himself, flipping them so that he was on top. He sat up, lifting himself off of Mark’s hips just to come crashing down again. His head rolled back and combed a hand through his hair that was now damp with sweat and sea salt. He rode Mark roughly, feeling the hard edges of his hipbones against his skin.

Mark’s hands raked up his chest. He felt his fingers working their way up until they landed on Jinyoung’s neck. They dragged across the gold chain, grating between the skin that pulled tight against his collarbones and the pads of Mark’s fingers. Mark’s fingers sharply latched on and in a swift motion, he pulled back until Jinyoung heard the snap in his ears. The gold chain snapped, falling away from his neck and disappearing in the sheets.

Jinyoung took a breath and it felt like the first one he’d taken in a long time. He did it again. And again. Feeling the ocean air filling his lungs. Feeling himself float higher and higher.

He looked down and saw Mark arching into him, eager to be deeper, closer. To feel more of himself as deeply inside as Jinyoung could take. His hands went to Jinyoung’s hips, gripping hard and forcing them down onto him. And Jinyoung felt it inside himself, hitting again and again and putting him over the edge.

He heard Mark in his ears, choking around his moan. He looked into his face; his eyebrows knitted together. He whined loud and Jinyoung came with him, releasing a sound that couldn’t be stifled.

Jinyoung felt lightheaded as his body worked itself down from its high. He felt himself move with Mark’s breaths. He saw his pearlescent glisten painting Mark’s torso. He traced his finger across it, bringing it Mark’s lips. He licked it slowly, letting it drag over his lower lip. The sight bringing a smile to both of their lips.

Jinyoung pulled himself off, sliding down next to Mark. His muscles felt tight and his skin felt humid. He reached out again, putting a hand to Mark’s cheek. He looked at his eyes, alive and bright and communicating a mutual message that couldn’t be translated into any of the languages they knew, though there was still an urge to try.

Jinyoung’s eyes drifted over his bare chest. The pastel light of the sunrise gleaming across his skin. The ocean silhouetting every harsh line of his body. “You’re everything,” Jinyoung whispered. “You’re the whole ocean to me.”

Mark smiled, resting his hand against Jinyoung’s, licking his lips before speaking. “We’re everything.”

Jinyoung felt like he was seeing in color for the first time. That was the way Mark made him feel. Vibrant and alive and ripe with possibilities. “We’re everything,” he repeated, believing it.

\---

They had laid there until their stomachs started audibly rumbling. Mark got up, getting dressed to go get them food. Jinyoung offered accompany him but Mark looked at him lying in bed. The white sheets pooled around him. “No,” he said. “I want to come back to this.”

So Jinyoung stayed, reading a novel in bed, occasionally looking over to the ocean and smiling. Seeing the movement of the waves across the sand. Hearing the crash over and over again. Thinking distantly about crashing into Mark over and over again.

It had been awhile. The doorbell rang. Jinyoung felt a smile crossing his face. He got up, wrapping the white sheet around himself, padding over to the door.

He didn’t even think twice. Didn’t think about how the timing of Mark’s return didn’t seem right. Or how clinical the use of the doorbell felt. Which is why when he opened the door and saw Jaebeom on the doorstep, he froze where he stood.

Jaebeom looked so out of place. Dressed in jeans and a black sweater and a dark coat. Like he was stepping straight out of the Korean spring. His hands were in his pockets, but his feet were planted steady. His mouth seemingly sewn shut and his jaw tight. Borderline aggressive. But something in his eyes, or maybe the tilt of his brows, seemed remorseful.

“Hey,” he said. It was soft. Too soft. And it sang through Jinyoung’s ears like a song he hadn’t heard in too long. And he wasn’t just remembering how it sounded but also the way it made him feel.

Jaebeom took in a deep breath, his eyes flitting behind Jinyoung. His voice was low, “Is he here?” The clear connotation of who _he_ was. As if saying his name was a deadly curse.

Jinyoung swallowed, throat dry. He wrapped the sheet tighter around him like a shield. “No,” he said with little emotion.

“Could I come in then?” Jaebeom almost smiled. Everything about him screaming gentle, like he was testing the waters. Carefully gauging Jinyoung’s emotions.

Jinyoung didn’t reply. He just turned walking back towards the bedroom and leaving the front door open. He left a crack in the bedroom door that was disinviting and Jaebeom honored it.

When Jinyoung came back out, he was dressed. Still completely lost on what to say or do. He sat down opposite from where Jaebeom had taken a seat on the arm of the couch in the foyer.

The older boy raised his eyes slowly, taking Jinyoung in. He stood. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Jinyoung was taken aback by this. “For what?”

“Everything,” Jaebeom sighed. “This is all my fault.”

Jinyoung stayed silent, his eyes low.

Jaebeom began to pace. “I saw all the signs and yet, I didn’t stop you. I just put distance between us. I just got petty. And that just made it worse.”

There was something consciously detached about the way he was addressing this that didn’t sit well with Jinyoung. It was like there wasn’t another person involved. Jaebeom discussed Mark as if he was a problem, not a human being. As if he was a product of some other underlying issue.

Jinyoung couldn’t help but think back to Youngjae and how he had spoken about Mark the same way. After spending so many months together. After learning each other’s secrets. After everything. It felt so wrong to diminish his existence.

“Come back with me, Jinyoung.”

He raised his eyes to him.

“I was thinking that maybe you could take some time off school,” Jaebeom said, rubbing his hands together.

“And maybe you can transfer to the university in Busan. I could transfer offices. We could be closer to your family. And the beach.”

Jinyoung was silent for a moment. Processing everything he was saying. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I want to make you happy,” he pleaded. “You deserve to be happy.”

Jinyoung didn’t say anything.

Jaebeom stopped in front of him. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” he said. Not lying.

“I am fighting for you, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom got down on his knees, meeting him at eye level. His face deep and patient. “Like I always will.”

Jinyoung’s mouth felt dry.

Jaebeom reached out and took Jinyoung’s hand in his. “When I confessed to you on that summer night and I said I would do everything I could to make you happy,” he whispered. “I meant forever.”

Jinyoung felt overwhelmed. His thoughts raced so fast that he couldn’t hold on to any of them. He had never seen Jaebeom so intent. So desperate. It hurt him to see him like this. The sun was flooding through the windows with midday intensity. But the warm light of the desert didn’t suit him. His skin looked swallow. But at the same time, every feature was like something Jinyoung had molded with his own hands. In a single moment, he could see the boy on the playground who didn’t care about his dialect. The one who had never looked upon him with pity when he was falling apart. The one who always had a look in his eyes that said _No matter what, you’re going to be okay._

And he couldn’t imagine his life without Jaebeom’s reassuring face. Without his calm voice. Without his quiet stoicism. Without his warm hands and his broad chest and every little detail that made him who he was.

His thoughts felt absent of something. Like there was a thought he should be having. Something on the tip of his tongue. But whatever it was, it couldn’t permeate the ruminations that Jaebeom’s face was causing him to cycle through, mercilessly. So, when he finally spoke, it didn’t feel like a carefully deliberated verdict. It just felt like the only conclusion that could ever be made. The only word in the world he could possibly say.

He nodded. “Okay.”

Jaebeom’s eyes brightened microscopically.

“I’ll,” Jinyoung felt his eyes get glossy but tears wouldn’t spring up. “I’ll get my things.”

Jaebeom reached towards him. “Do you need help?” he grazed his fingers over Jinyoung’s bare arm and Jinyoung felt his touch as static that traveled up to his brain, further jumbling his thoughts.

“No,” he said, with no feeling, his eyes darted away. He slipped away from Jaebeom’s touch, towards the bedroom. He closed the French doors, walking over to the pile of baggage in the corner. He fell to his knees, surrounded by a mix of littered clothing. He pieced his clothes apart from Mark’s, getting an occasional whiff of cinnamon candy that no longer had his heart racing. He felt nothing. He packed his bag back up.

He stood back up, looking up. He saw the horizon. But it didn’t fill him with anything. There wasn’t anything for him on the other side. Not Jaebeom. Not Mark. From this distance, Seoul was just another place. His office was just another place. Mark’s studio was just another place.

When Jinyoung came out of the room, fully dressed and fully packed, Jaebeom was waiting. Without a word, they left the house. The taxi Jaebeom had arrived in was still waiting outside. And Jinyoung honestly didn’t know how Jaebeom pictured this going. If he knew he’d be getting in that taxi with Jinyoung or if he had ever imagined that he’d be the only one riding back to the airport.

They drove through the dry, arid mountains. The highways as congested as the air. He didn’t look over to Jaebeom, but he could feel his eyes on him. Could see the look. One of concern. One trying to discern what he was thinking. But even he didn’t know what he was thinking.

It was the middle of their flight when he looked over and saw Jaebeom passed out next to him. His bangs low on his face, his jaw relaxed, his arms crossed over himself. Jinyoung looked down to his own feet. Though he was wearing sneakers, he could still feel it. In between his toes, the grains of the beach gritted against his skin. He subconsciously felt at his hair, the skin on his face and could feel the coarseness of sea salt that peppered them.

He thought about that beach. About the promises Mark and him had made to each other. The empty feeling in his chest grew full and when he touched his face again, it was wet with tears. His chest began to shake as silent sobs moved through him. He wanted so badly to stop but he couldn’t. As if the shock of it all was just now hitting him.

And luckily, Jaebeom didn’t wake up until the tears were long gone.

\---

By the time his phone started receiving signal, there were no messages. No calls. And it felt like there was a mutual understanding of what happened.

Jaebeom followed through with his promise. He took Jinyoung to Jinhae, not even stopping in Seoul. It was wild for Jinyoung to be watching the sunrise over the Pacific Ocean one day and the next for him to be pulling up to his parents’ house. As if nothing had even happened.

“How much do they know?” Jinyoung muttered as they pulled up.

They hadn’t exchanged many words during their travels. Just the necessities. But Jaebeom’s eyes and actions had been clouded with worry. Every small touch, like an arm wrapped around his shoulder or a hand on his leg expressing the same emotion over and over.

“Not much,” Jaebeom said. His voice was trying to be nonchalant, but he was obviously restraining emotion. “That you went to Los Angeles. That I had to go get you. That you aren’t doing well.”

Jinyoung nodded. While none of it was wrong, he knew the depth of what he experienced couldn’t be summed up in words.

His parents hugged him tight and his sister watched on from the corner. Jinyoung saw the hesitation in her eyes.

He went to go take a shower shortly after arriving. He could feel the sand running down the drain and the salt stinging his eyes. He washed away the remnants of Mark. The last of his skin cells.

When he came out, his mom and sister sat him down. Jaebeom was at the store with his dad. Their eyes were heavy with worry. Jinyoung was still plagued with distance, absentmindedly toying with a frayed edge on his jeans.

“What happened?” his mom said. And it wasn’t judgmental. And it wasn’t pitying. It was solely concerned.

Jinyoung considered softening it. Painting his story. The setting. The lead up. The twists. But at this point, the how didn’t matter nearly as much as the what. “I cheated,” he said bluntly.

His mom and sister shared a glance. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the shine in his mom’s eyes. The way her mouth went small. When she spoke again, her voice was thick. “One time?” a hint of optimism in her voice.

“No,” Jinyoung looked down to his hands. “Many times.” But he felt the need to clarify. “With the same person,” not knowing if it was a desperate attempt to justify his actions or validate his experience.

His mother gave a long sigh. And again, it was clear in the way she held herself that she wasn’t mad. She wasn’t reprimanding her son. She was scared for him. “What’s going to happen now?”

“Jaebeom and I are going to get married,” his tone matter of fact.

Jinyoung’s sister seemed to sit up a little straighter. “Is that what you want?” her eyes narrowing, suspicious.

“Yes,” he said with little fervor. “Of course, that’s what I want.”

They didn’t talk about it after that. Over the next few days, they tried to play normal. They tried to help him regulate his jet lag, telling him when he should be going to bed and trying to rouse him early in the morning. They fed him well even though he had little appetite. They were soft when they spoke to him, gently touching his shoulder to get his attention.

Jaebeom stayed. He took work calls in the guest bedroom. He looked tired; shoulders heavy with the weight of everything he was trying to balance.

He helped Jinyoung block Mark on his phone. “Just in case he tries to message you,” he had said. And it had already been two weeks and there had been no messages so Jinyoung knew there were none coming.

Jinyoung had small bursts of feeling accompanied by long stretches of nothing. Like when Jaebeom and him were going into town to run an errand. It was mid-morning, a weekend. There was a calmness in how still it was. A filter of blue, overcast light.

Jaebeom pulled off the main street. There was a two-lane road that seemingly kept going forever. There wasn’t another car in sight. Looming trees flanking them on either side. Swaths of farmland surrounding them.

“What are you doing?” Jinyoung said.

He swerved off-road, towards an open pasture. The truck rattled on uneven ground. Jaebeom stopped the car and turning it off. They both looked out. It was an expanse of emerald green rolling out like a carpet, snaking up foggy mountains. Looking like soft velvet from a distance.

Without a word, they got out. Admiring the view together. Jinyoung sat himself on the hood of the car. He looked out to the mountains, trying to imagine how something so big can look so small from a distance.

He heard the distant click and looked towards Jaebeom. He was behind his camera, pointing it at Jinyoung’s silhouetted face.

“Aish,” Jinyoung waved. “Get one of the view, not me.”

“You are the view,” Jaebeom smiled with his eyes.

Jaebeom turned towards him. His eyes were warm. He slid his hands over, pulling Jinyoung closer to him. He wrapped his arms around him, leaning his cheek into his hair. In the moment, it was impossible to believe that there was anyone else on Earth but them.

“Remember when I told you that I wanted to live in the country?” Jaebeom stared back at the mountains.

“I shut that down real quick,” Jinyoung smiled, softly. He could feel the beat of Jaebeom’s heart; slow and steady. He could feel the broadness of his shoulders encircling him.

“You said you couldn’t stand being up in the mountains. You couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the water.”

Jinyoung was silent. The mention of water sending a spark up his spine.

“And I told you that I’d move mountains for you,” Jaebeom kissed his forehead, pulling away to look in his eyes. “It’s still true. I’d still do it.”

Jinyoung looked back. “I know you would,” he replied softly, no doubt in his mind.

Jaebeom leaned in, kissing him softly. He slipped a hand against his cheek. His skin was warm. He increased the intensity.

It was like an early morning alarm that started soft and built up to a deafening scream. Jinyoung replayed it again. _You couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the water._ And by the time Jinyoung considered the setting, the car, the view, the pressure of another body on his, it was too much. He pulled away, pushing his arms against Jaebeom’s chest.

The boy took fumbled three steps back. His eyes open, questioning. Maybe a little frightened.

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung rushed to say. He felt the tremble of his hands against the matte paint of the truck. “I’m just… I’m not ready for that yet.”

Jaebeom’s eyes cooled microscopically. He took in Jinyoung. Instantly, he felt self-conscious, over exposed. He could feel the tension in his shoulders, the twitch in his cheek, the breath he had been holding in.

Jaebeom nodded. “It’s okay,” he said, so softly that his voice was almost lost in the vastness of the landscape. “Whenever you’re ready.”

\---

Jinyoung convinced Jaebeom to let him finish his semester remotely. He didn’t want to stall his graduation any longer. He met with his advisor over video call. He reminded him that his defense was coming up quickly. Asked him how long he was coming into Seoul to defend it.

Just two days he told him. He didn’t want to linger there.

The morning they left for Seoul, it was warm and misty. The southern part of Korea was heating up in preparation for summer. The train station was dewy with fog. Jinyoung’s mind was just as foggy.

He combed through his notes obsessively on the KTX but every once in a while his eyes would catch on the jade green mountains of the countryside. Rolling slopes of jewel tones. They were hard to look at without feeling something. Without thinking of Jaebeom’s frightened eyes. Jinyoung couldn’t shake that feeling.

It was almost anti-climactic when Jinyoung passed his defense. It was like he wasn’t fazed. Like this was the easiest thing he had done this year. Jaebeom had kissed his forehead, his smile was a mile wide. And Jinyoung returned it but inside, he didn’t find anything impressive about what he had done.

They were staying at the apartment that night and it was the first time Jinyoung had been back since before California. He felt strangely nervous, knowing how familiar everything would feel.

When they walked in the lights were off, but Jaebeom felt for the light switch. When they came on, they illuminated a dozen people in their living room. “Surprise!” they shouted at the top of their lungs.

And Jinyoung smiled but the feeling of surprise wasn’t back in his wheelhouse yet.

He saw Jackson and Youngjae and a smattering of people from his department. Jackson was the first to approach. “I missed you both so much,” he said hugging Jaebeom and Jinyoung all at once. The people from his department followed suit. Chatting him up about how his defense went. Acting overly cool and unimpressed when they found out he passed without any revisions.

It wasn’t until after they served dinner that Youngjae approached him. Luckily, Jackson was pouring drinks in the kitchen and distracting the majority of the guests.

“Hey,” Youngjae said softly.

“Hey,” Jinyoung replied, a small smile on his lips.

“How have you been?” he said.

“Struggling,” Jinyoung sighed. “But I’m here.”

Youngjae’s eyes were uneasy. He had a guilty look on. Jinyoung knew the one.

“You told him about Mark,” Jinyoung smiled. “And about California.”

“I did,” Youngjae winced through his teeth. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

“Don’t apologize,” he waved. “You did the right thing.” He got a little closer, making his voice lower. “How did you find us?”

“I was still friends with Mark on Kakao. His location updated. It wasn’t hard to track your spot.”

Jinyoung nodded, taking it in. Not sure how to feel.

“I missed you a lot,” Youngjae said, his eyes reflecting in the light. “I felt really awful about how I left things. I shouldn’t have judged you like that. It’s not what you needed. I thought I was helping but I wasn’t.”

“I missed you too,” Jinyoung nodded.

“You’re my best friend and I never want to lose you like that again.”

“You won’t,” Jinyoung said. “I promise.” He wrapped his arms tight around Youngjae. “I love you.”

“I love you too, hyung,” Youngjae choked out, hugging him back.

Jinyoung pulled away. “If you could excuse me, I need to speak to Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom was cleaning up the dishes while making conversation with another student in his cohort when Jinyoung approached him.

“Can I talk to you?” he said, pulling Jaebeom aside.

Jaebeom’s face was plagued with worry but he let himself be pulled into the bedroom. “What’s up? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something,” Jinyoung sighed. “You won’t like it.”

“You’re scaring me,” Jaebeom blinked.

“I need to talk to him,” Jinyoung said faintly. He had meant for it come off confident and sure, but it didn’t. It came out weakly.

Jaebeom seemed a little speechless. He looked back towards the party. “Why?”

Jinyoung tugged his ear, nervous. “I just owe it to him.”

Jaebeom shook his head, “You don’t owe him anything. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wasn’t anything to you.”

Jinyoung felt the statement grate against him harder than it should have. It wasn’t true. But he didn’t want to argue, not anymore. “I want to tell him that it’s over.”

Jaebeom was quiet. “Really?”

Jinyoung nodded.

“Are you sure it is?” Jaebeom asked, his eyes big and scared.

“Yes,” Jinyoung said. “It is. I promise.”

Jaebeom was still, thinking, unsure. “Do you,” he struggled to find the words. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “I need to do it myself.”

Jaebeom sighed, rubbing his face momentarily. “Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll unblock his name for you. You can see him tomorrow afternoon.”

\---

They met on the bridge in the late afternoon. Late enough that the sun was just set, not blinding them but instead painting the river and the cityscape in pollution pinks and smoggy saffrons. Oddly enough, Jinyoung didn’t feel nervous. Before he came, Jaebeom had hugged him for a long while. Kissed his face a million times. Whispered that he was so happy. So proud. Whispered to him how brave he was. Jinyoung didn’t reply. He didn’t feel brave. He just felt a surreal sense of calm that he couldn’t explain.

“Hey,” Mark said quietly, sneaking up behind him.

“Hey,” Jinyoung turned to greet him. He looked into his face for the first time in weeks. And somehow the sight felt totally different than it ever had.

Mark opened his mouth, trying to piece together the right words. Jinyoung saw the moment he gave up in the way he sometimes did. When he realized that choosing the right Korean wasn’t as critical as getting some words out. “It’s over, isn’t it?”

Jinyoung smiled sincerely, looking at him through his eye crinkles. Seeing the warm colors lighting his face. Thinking distantly of LA and sunrises and sand in his shoes. He nodded.

“This never meant anything, did it?” Mark folded his arms over the railing and looked out over the water. “I was just supposed to enjoy it while it lasted.”

“It couldn’t have lasted forever,” Jinyoung said, the words empty. “We knew that.”

“No,” Mark shook his head and sighed. “It could have.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung had the instinct to get closer, to grab his arm, but he held back.

“It could have,” Mark repeated, as if he was finished, before he took a breath and spoke again. “I just… I kept holding out for you. I saw you. And I thought that you would be brave enough to walk away one day. One day. To realize that he wasn’t the end of your story. I kept telling Yugyeom and Bambam. They thought I was an idiot.” Mark sighed and rubbed his face momentarily before recollecting himself. “But no. In the end, you did what everyone expected you to do. Pick the safe choice. And that’s why you’re staying with him.” He says it like he is sure. Like he has all this figured out. Or, at least, like he is convincing himself that he does.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jinyoung shrugged.

Mark looked on. His face disbelieving. “How can you act like it was nothing? Like I was nothing?”

Jinyoung kept looking at him. Watching his mouth move, his eyebrows furrow. He felt out of body. Like Mark was a projection of something inside him. He wasn’t real. His feelings weren’t tangible. But he didn’t have the words or the heart to convey that out loud. So, he just said the most unsympathetic, ungrateful thing he could have said.

“I’m sorry,” he said, clearly, simply. Like the words meant nothing because at the end of the day, they didn’t. “But that’s the bed I’ve made.”

Mark stood still for a moment. Jinyoung could see the fury threatening to consume him. Like a zealous sun god. On fire. He breathed out harshly, rubbing a hand over his face. He paced over to Jinyoung in three steps, grabbing his hand and holding it out. He reached into his pocket. He pulled out a long gold chain, dropping it into Jinyoung’s open palm.

“It’s the grave you’ve dug,” Mark’s voice thick with disgust. He threw the hand away. “Now go and lay in it,” he turned and started to walk away.

“Just promise me,” he turned back and it wasn’t until now that Jinyoung could hear the tears welling up in his throat. “Promise me that I’m the last person you’ll do this to. The last person you’ll say those things to. Because I wouldn’t wish this upon anyone else.”

Jinyoung looked at Mark a last time. Taking in all his beauty. His mix of hard and soft. How he always stood slightly unsure. How his eyes pushed and pulled between not caring and caring too much. In the moment, he thinks he’ll miss him, but he’s not sure. “I promise,” he said back. “For whatever my word is worth.”

Mark’s mouth went flat. And they were both having the same thought. But instead of speaking it, they just turned away from each other and went their separate ways. Jinyoung didn’t look back once.

\---

It was dark by the time Jinyoung got home. He shucked off his shoes. He crawled his way to the bedroom, his shoulders heavy. Jaebeom was in bed, reading.

“Hey,” he whispered, sitting up. “How did it go?”

Jinyoung didn’t say anything. He just crawled into his side. He held out his enclosed fist. Jaebeom held out his hand. He dropped the gold chain into it. It was clammy from being held the whole way home. He had worked his fingers against the link where it had snapped at least a thousand times. Each time thinking back to Mark’s face. Broken and furious and beautiful.

Jaebeom pulled it apart, assessing the damage. “I’ll take this in tomorrow,” Jaebeom said. “I’ll get it fixed for you.”

Jinyoung turned away from him, suddenly exhausted.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom stopped him, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder.

Jinyoung looked back. His eyes empty.

“Thank you.”


	5. Storm

It was the day they were heading back to Jinhae. Jaebeom returned from the jeweler as Jinyoung was waking up, the necklace restored. He slipped it back around Jinyoung’s neck. It felt unfamiliar after weeks of absence. Heavier now. Cold because it hadn’t been against his skin.

They decided to spend the rest of the morning packing up Jinyoung’s office.

Jinyoung was taking books off the shelf and putting them in boxes while Jaebeom was cleaning out his desk.

“What’s this?” Jinyoung heard him say.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Jaebeom holding a stack of frames. Their photos. The bottom drawer ajar.

“What are these doing in the drawer?” Jaebeom looked up to him, his eyes narrowing.

Jinyoung looked to them, to Jaebeom’s face. Staying placid. “Don’t ask.” He turned back towards the shelves, grabbing three more books and stacking them into a box.

He heard Jaebeom sigh, surprised at the aggressive edge to it. “Is this how it’s going to be for a while?” he murmured, irritated. “We’re just going to have to keep sorting him out of your life?”

Jinyoung heard the bitter taste in this mouth. He hated it. He hated the idea of Mark rolling around Jaebeom’s mouth like that. Like he wasn’t even worth being named. “Don’t talk about Mark,” he said without looking, swallowing down his anger.

“Mark?” Jaebeom bit out. For the first time. And it was thick with question. He paused before scoffing. “Don’t tell me he was some foreigner.”

Jinyoung felt his neck flushing. He grabbed Jaebeom’s bag out of the chair.

“What are you doing?” Jaebeom sighed.

Jinyoung pulled out his camera. “This was for the first time Mark and I kissed,” he spat, letting it slip through his fingers. Hearing the crash of it against the desk. “Do you wanna sort it out of your life?”

Jaebeom was quiet for a moment. His eyes glued to where the camera fell. His jaw went tense. “Why would you fucking tell me that?” he shook his head in disbelief.

“And this,” Jinyoung reached down into the cardboard box. “Remember when Youngjae brought me back this book.” He tossed it across the desk, towards him. Hearing the blood rush in his ears. “It was because he had seen us together at Seokchon Lake. Let’s just pitch it. That will make it better. Right?” his tone mocked.

“Stop,” Jaebeom looked slightly dizzy, taking a step back. His palms going to his ears. Trying to block the sound.

Jinyoung couldn’t stop. He felt consumed by rage. And maybe it was because he hadn’t felt in a long time, that it felt inescapable. “And this,” he pounded his hands against the desk, watching Jaebeom’s shoulders jolt at the sound, “I don’t even have to tell you what we did here.” He narrowed his eyes. “Should we burn it?”

Jaebeom reached out and fisted his shirt, pulling his face close. “Shut up!” he yelled. He threw him aside, letting him fall to the ground.

Jinyoung landed on his back, catching himself with his elbows that grated against the carpet. He hissed at the burn. He looked up at Jaebeom, shocked but still just as furious.

Jaebeom seethed, looking down at him. His face moved through emotions. He tried to slow his breathing. He rubbed his face with his hands before speaking. “You can handle the rest of this,” he said, stepping over Jinyoung on the floor and moving for the door. “I’ll be in the car when you’re done.”

By the time Jinyoung had finished packing up, he had cooled back down to numbness. He said his goodbyes to the office. Trying not to think too hard about hands laced through skateboard trucks. Of the smell of sunflowers and lavender. Of Quentin’s pain when he realized Caddie could never be his. He carried the boxes down to the car, loading them into the trunk, and slid into the passenger seat.

Jaebeom sat at the wheel, his hands gripped as tight as his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he said, not looking at him.

“It’s fine,” Jinyoung replied, knowing it wasn’t fine. “Let’s just go.”

\---

They returned to the purgatory that Jinhae was offering them without ever addressing what was said. Jinhae felt in between worlds. One where they weren’t okay. One where they were. Instead, there was this undiscussed middle ground that felt uncomfortably tense and unfathomably lonely.

Jaebeom spoke about getting an apartment in Busan after the wedding. “A place for just us,” he said in between blinks as they were falling asleep, his chin on Jinyoung’s stiff shoulder. “I can make some calls and see what’s on the market.”

And so, he did and a few days later they were in town, meeting with a realtor.

“Something that we can grow into,” he described. “Maybe an extra bedroom for visitors.”

“Of course,” the realtor smiled. “Maybe a view of the water?”

Jaebeom hissed between his teeth in thought, his legs crossed in the chair. He looked momentarily at Jinyoung out of the side of his eyes. “Maybe an inland view would be better.”

“I have a couple places I can show you today,” she said. “Follow me.”

They saw three places. Jaebeom’s money went a lot farther down south and the places felt palatial compared to their apartment in Seoul.

They were in the last place, a three bedroom with floor to ceiling windows that opened up to a deck, overlooking the jade rolling hills.

Jinyoung stood on the deck, looking out over the mountains. He knew that a couple hundred miles north, Seoul kept flourishing without them. Mark kept breathing without him in his air space. He wondered what that was like. If he even noticed a difference. If he had some other Korean boy occupying his thoughts and his sheets by now.

He heard the slide of the glass door behind him.

Jaebeom’s hands snaked around his front, hugging him close against the bannister.

“She had to take a call,” he said. “I like it though. I wish the kitchen was a little bigger, but the deck is nice,” Jaebeom nuzzled his nose against the space behind Jinyoung’s ear. “The extra bedroom could become your office. How does that sound?”

Jinyoung hadn’t been listening. “Hm?”

Jaebeom gripped his shoulders, twisting him around so they were face to face. “Where are you?” Jaebeom looked deep in his eyes. “Come back.”

Jinyoung looked into his eyes. Felt his stomach twist. “Can we talk?” he said, shrugging Jaebeom’s arms away and putting some distance between them.

Jaebeom’s eyes went flat. He sighed. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”

Jinyoung gripped the banister, twisting his hands against it. “I got accepted for a summer position. Abroad.”

“Abroad?”

“In London,” Jinyoung looked back.

“London?” Jaebeom’s face screwed. “Why would you go to all the way to London?”

Jinyoung felt his mouth getting tight. “Because it’s a good opportunity. Gives me a chance to network with other academics. I can practice English,” rambling off the reasons as if he shouldn’t have to.

“Why do you need to practice English?” Jaebeom crossed his arms, growing defensive.

“Because I study English Literature,” Jinyoung said, his tone trying not to edge on annoyed.

Jaebeom was silent for a moment. “When is it?”

“I’d leave midway through July.”

“So right after the wedding?” Jaebeom raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just three months though.”

“Do you think that’s the best idea?” his tone growing callous.

Jinyoung looked at the way the wind swept his hair out of his face, exposing his features that didn’t try to hide his feelings. He knew exactly what he was thinking but he still had to ask. “What are you trying to say?”

Jaebeom moved his hands into his pockets, leaning on one foot. “I mean we’re going to get married and then you’re going to jet halfway around the world without me. Does that sound reasonable to you?”

Jinyoung felt himself growing tired of this conversation. “Supporting my career sounds like something my husband would reasonably want to do.”

“So, what’s going to happen?” Jaebeom narrowed his eyes. “Am I gonna have to come get you again? Find you wrapped in another man’s sheets again?”

Jinyoung wasn’t used to this. He had always seen Jaebeom as confident. Secure. But recent events had cracked away at him and Jinyoung was seeing these slivers of insecurity that gave away to a biting ruthlessness that Jinyoung assumed Jaebeom picked up from him. And it felt almost hypocritical for Jinyoung to hate it. Like he was just hating a reflection of himself.

“God,” Jinyoung exhaled. “It’s over. Can you just let it die?”

The sound of the glass door had them shifting themselves, shamefully.

“What are we thinking?” the realtor looked between them, shielding her eyes from the sun.

Jaebeom forced a smile. “It’s certainly setting the bar high,” he nodded. “We’ll have to keep thinking about it. Could we get the information?”

\---

“How’s that feel?” the tailor finished the last button at the neck, standing back and letting him see himself.

Jinyoung looked at himself in the mirror. The tuxedo was classic which had been exactly the word he had used when him and Jaebeom had picked them out months ago. Black and clean and fitted. But now that he was trying it on, he couldn’t help but notice the way it clashed with his tired eyes and his stubble and how he felt entirely too put together on the outside but like he was falling apart on the inside.

“Good,” he said simply, not knowing how it was supposed to feel. “What do you think?” he turned his eyes towards his sister’s reflection in the mirror. She sat in a chair in the corner of the dressing room, watching him in the mirror.

“A little loose around shoulders,” she said, pointing towards him.

The tailor rushed, smoothing the fabric with his hands and seeing where it bent beneath his fingers. “Did you lose weight?” he said. “Since your last fitting?”

“Maybe a little,” Jinyoung said weakly, appraising himself in the mirror.

The tailor nodded, taking out his tape to remeasure. “Are you getting excited? You’re a month out.”

“Of course,” Jinyoung forced out, hearing how dead the words sounded in his ears. He looked towards his sister. Her arms crossed tight against her chest. Her mouth stretched into a flat line.

“Excuse me, sir?” she spoke out, leaning forward. “Could you maybe give us a minute?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll get some more pins so we can take this in.”

She smiled tightly at him as he left the dressing room. When the door closed, the air felt tense. She looked at her brother in the mirror.

“What are you doing, Jinyoung?” she sighed, exasperated.

Jinyoung didn’t know how to answer. He looked in the mirror, trying desperately to connect the reflection to himself.

“Who do you think you’re fooling?” her voice was pointed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shook his head, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

“You’re standing there in your wedding suit and I’ve never seen you look so miserable.”

Jinyoung sighed, combing his hair away from his face, trying to make it lay right. “I’m just a little stressed.”

“About what? School is over. California is over,” her tone cut through his thoughts. “When are you going to admit that this wedding isn’t what you want?”

Jinyoung felt his stomach twist. He paused, releasing a breath, calming his nerves. “This is the decision I made,” he said, clearly.

“You don’t love him,” she shook her head.

Jinyoung swallowed. The words were circulating around his head and the truth of them left him feeling faint. “Not right now,” his voice came out clear and logical. “But I think I can again.”

“That’s not good enough,” she bit out. “Why do I have to even tell you that that’s not good enough?” her eyes were wide, disbelieving. “I don’t want you to do this and think that you can just will there to be feelings there,” she furrowed her brows. “Because if you try to do that, you’ll just end up resenting him.”

He felt his eyes sting. He looked up, trying to keep it together. “I already do,” he said, under his breath.

His sister got up. Grabbing his arms, she sat him down on the pedestal. When she spoke again, her tone was softer, looking deep into his eyes. “I love you so much, little brother. And I’m so proud of all you’ve done. I look at you and I see how much love you have to give.” She paused, shaking her head, “But you can’t control who your heart wants to give it to.”

Jinyoung felt the wet of his eyes, blurring his sister’s face. He held his breath, feeling the blood rush in his ears. His head ached from holding it in.

She squeezed his hands. “Jaebeom’s a great guy. He always has been to you. But he knows he’s not the one. And it’s killing him. It’s killing both of you.”

Jinyoung’s shoulders shook and his throat choked and he tried to stifle the sound but it escaped his mouth anyway as the tears spilled across his cheeks. His chest shuddered out the sobs that he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I’ve been so bad, sister” he sobbed. “I’ve been unforgivable.”

“Jinyoung, this wedding isn’t going to right your wrongs,” she shook her head. “You’ve stopped cheating, but you haven’t stopped lying.”

His sister reached up to hold his face, swiping the tears away with her thumbs and shushing him.

“I can’t,” Jinyoung choked out. “I can’t picture my life without him.”

His sister undid the top button of his collar, letting him breathe easier. “He’s still going to be there for you,” she nodded. “He may be hurt. And it might take him some time. But you know him. You know he’d always be there for you whether you were together or not.”

Jinyoung’s mind flashed. He saw the way this played out like a road map to a place he never could have fathomed he would go. The look of desolate finality on Jaebeom’s face. The feeling of sorting their belongings apart. The chill in the air when Jaebeom drives off. The quiet when Jinyoung’s going to sleep in some bed alone for the first time. The pitying looks on people’s faces when he tells them it didn’t work out.

Jinyoung had been waiting for a wash of clarity since the beginning. But this wasn’t how he expected it. He had expected it to feel liberating but instead, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He had expected it to feel like closure but instead, it felt like caustic poison coursing through him.

“Get me out of this damn thing,” he murmured, falling into his sister’s arms.

\---

Jinyoung got home from the fitting. Jaebeom was waiting for him. He held his face close and looked into his eyes. He saw how red and puffy they were. He looked concerned. “How did it go?” he asked softly.

Jinyoung looked into his face. Saw the worry that hadn’t left his features for many months. “Can we take a drive in the morning?”

Jaebeom’s eyes stilled and his mouth opened. His face flickered with thought. He looked like he was about to say something but then just nodded.

They didn’t sleep that night. Jaebeom lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Jinyoung lay across his chest. Jaebeom’s arms encircled him, fingers sweeping endlessly across the back of his neck. Jinyoung’s eyes were wet, seeping tears onto Jaebeom’s bare chest and letting them evaporate in the summer heat. The whirl of the fan filling the space between their minds.

At the first sign of light, Jaebeom got up. He packed his bag wordlessly, collecting all of his belongings into his suitcase and putting it into the truck. They got in.

Jinyoung turned to him. “Can you take me to that place? With the view of the mountains?”

Jaebeom didn’t say anything but he started the car.

They sat on the hood, the morning dew of the countryside enveloping them. The air was cool and alive with the distant sound of birds greeting the morning. The sky was moving through shades of blue. The grey clouds were congregating in groups, mirroring shadows across the lush fields.

Jinyoung watched as Jaebeom looked at the mountains. His face strong and stoic and knowing what was happening.

“I’m so sorry,” Jinyoung said. He could feel the tremors starting to move across him. The shake of his knees and shoulders and teeth. He took one of Jaebeom’s hands, running his fingers across it. “I know this is going to hurt,” he felt his eyes watering instantly. “Hell, it’s been hurting for a long time.” He wiped his nose against the edge of his jacket. “But look at me.”

He reached up to Jaebeom’s face, cupping the warm skin with his palm. He saw his eyes turn to look at him. The depth of them. A mix of hurt and fear and uncertainty. And in the moment, Jinyoung hated what was happening but knew it needed to be done. “Please hear me. If you don’t hear anything else I say, please hear this.” He smiled through his wet eyes. “My story will always begin with you. And I’m so, so lucky to have had you.”

Jaebeom swallowed, his eyes turning glossy. He looked away, rubbing his face. He exhaled and it was ragged and brutal and tired. “What happened with us, Jinyoung? When did this start?”

Jinyoung took a deep breath, opening himself up in a way he hadn’t all year. “I don’t know when it happened,” he shook his head. “I look back and I try and pinpoint it. But there’s never a moment. It was just… this seed that was planted and I tried not to think about it, but it grew anyway. It started thriving in my mind and overtaking all my thoughts and perceptions.

“I put distance up between me and these thoughts because they scared me. I was scared to see anything else but this future we were building together. I kept telling myself, ‘you’ll feel better tomorrow.’ But I never did. I felt guilty and shameful for ever questioning us and I couldn’t tell anyone. Not Youngjae, not my family, and certainly not you. So, I stayed quiet and cold and the more distance I put there, the more it made me unable to see the effect I was having by sealing myself away. I couldn’t see how much I was hurting you.”

Jaebeom’s eyes were on the ground. His posture was stiff. But he was listening. And his hand was still in Jinyoung’s. And that’s all he could ask for.

Jinyoung continued though his throat was coated with tears. “I never planned to cheat,” he shook his head. “But when I looked at him, sitting in my office or in the mirror of a club bathroom or in a bed in Los Angeles, he awakened these feelings that I had never known existed in me. All these feelings that I knew I would have to close myself off from if I married you. And knowing that I was committing myself to you, I felt this overwhelming need to be selfish and greedy and drown in everything he had to offer me.

“And I don’t say that to dehumanize him or make him into some symbol of everything that wasn’t you. Because he was so much more than that. And I was, perhaps, the most human when I was with him.”

He could see Jaebeom’s mouth going tight. He opened his mouth before closing it, as if knowing that Jinyoung had to have the freedom to speak. And it was hard for Jinyoung to watch but he knew he needed that as well.

“Despite what you and Youngjae thought, he wasn’t just some bed to sleep in. He wasn’t just some hot foreign student who seduced me into a cliché. He was real,” he looked down, feeling a smile pull at his lips. “And what we had together, that was real, too.

“We weren’t perfect and we were never so disillusioned to think that what was happening was some stroke of fate. But we really knew each other. And we really accepted each other despite the fact that we were imperfect.”

He looked back to Jaebeom, squeezing his hand with both of his own. “I don’t mean to hurt you by talking about him. But you deserve to know,” he nodded. “You and I were both so lucky to have just one love like ours in our lifetime. People search their whole lives looking for something like what we had,” he wiped his face. “But I can’t help but think that there is a person out there who is going to awaken you the way he awakened me. That this isn’t the end your story either. And that’s what I want for you. Someone who will move mountains for you.”

Jaebeom looked up at him. There were tears down his face now, silent and slow and still so strong. Jinyoung took his sleeve, wiping them for him.

Jinyoung smiled though his tears, not diminishing the moment but feeling overwhelmed by the freedom of speaking his mind. “You know I love you so much. You know I always have and I always will and nothing ever could stop me from being at your side.” He sighed before speaking again. “But we don’t need to be together to mean the world to each other.”

He could see the finality of the words wash over Jaebeom’s features.

Jaebeom waited a long moment. His broad shoulders slowly shifted from stiff to something softer. He ran a hand over his face, wiping his tears into his hair. He opened his mouth, collecting his thoughts before speaking. “I love you so much,” he said. “This whole year has been the scariest one of my life. Every day just felt like I wasn’t doing enough. That I was fucking this whole marriage up before it even started.

“And when Youngjae told me about what had been happening, God,” he almost laughed but it came out as just a swallow of tears. “Nearly decked him.

“I thought ‘How can this guy be anything like what I am to him?’ And I never even stopped to consider that maybe that was the point all along. That I couldn’t outcompete him because we were never the same to begin with.”

He sighed and it felt different now. It was still full of hurt but there was a certain relief to it as well. “I just wanted so bad to fix everything that I never even considered that it didn’t need to be fixed.

“You were selfish. But I was selfish too. I thought that this life I had planned for us was your best option, your only option. And I thought if I could just push it onto you that, one day, you’d be grateful I did. But even I knew that it didn’t feel right. That we weren’t happy.”

He was silent for a long moment. Weighing his words.

“I’ll admit,” he screwed his face. “It’s going to take some time for me to process this. I haven’t been in your head. I haven’t had as much time as you’ve had to come around to this.” He sighed. “But it can’t be any worse than it’s been. There has to be more than that. Right?”

Jinyoung squeezed his hand. “There’s more for both of us. And I can’t wait to be there for you when you find it.”

Jaebeom drove them to the train station. He got his suitcase out of the back. He stood and looked at Jinyoung. They didn’t say anything for a long moment. But Jinyoung felt the urge to hug him, so he did, not letting him go for a long time. Taking in the way it feels. Safe and familiar and nothing more and nothing less.

“I’ll be back in town in a few weeks. To get my things,” Jinyoung whispered into his ear.

Jaebeom nodded, burying his face in his neck.

“I love you so much,” he murmured. The words felt completely different now. Now that there wasn’t a hesitant promise of forever in them. They felt like a truth Jinyoung had been wanting to speak for a long time.

“I love you too,” Jaebeom said. He pulled away, kissing Jinyoung’s cheek. He reached his hands behind his neck. His fingers deftly feeling for the clasp of the gold necklace. He undid it, letting it slip away from Jinyoung’s skin and into his hands.

Jaebeom stood back, looking at him. “Go to London,” his voice was steady. “You’ll hate yourself forever if you don’t.”

Jinyoung smiled a little. “I know,” he said. “I’ll let you know how it is.” He was about to turn when he remembered. “Youngjae.”

“Youngjae?” Jaebeom questioned.

“Call him, please,” Jinyoung nodded.

“What?” Jaebeom seemed a little flustered. “Why would I do that?”

“Cause you both love each other. I’ve just been obstructing your view so neither of you could see it.”

Jaebeom was silent for a moment. He blinked. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll call him.”

Jinyoung waved at him and got back in the truck. He rode towards home. And when he looked upon the mountains, they didn’t feel so big to him anymore.

\---

Jinyoung spent the next month with his family. They were polite. They didn’t press him and ask him what’s next. What his plan looked like for the next year. For the next five years. They just helped him get his things in order for London. But he could see the uncertainty in their eyes. The way that something that seemed to secure his future had suddenly left and now nothing was sure.

He visited the water a lot. Read a lot. Contemplated what love even meant to him anymore. And he while he still wasn’t sure, he thought it must have felt an awful lot like a warm beach and a sunrise and white sheets and whispered promises.

He called Youngjae. Asked if he could move back in. Told him that he’d be gone for three months anyway. Said he wouldn’t step on his toes.

Youngjae had sighed into the phone. “Hyung. Do you even have to ask?”

Jinyoung rode the KTX back to Seoul, only a few belongings in tow.

When Youngjae opened the door, his smile was knowing. And Jinyoung knew he didn’t have to explain anything. Which felt like a relief.

Youngjae took him out to a noraebang the first night he was back. They drank too much. Sang and screamed until their voices were rough. Stayed out until the trains started running again in the dawn light. Ordered delivery and fell asleep on the couch entangled in each other.

The next day, there was a knock at the door. Jinyoung opened it, seeing Jaebeom on the other side.

“Hey,” his eyes were warm.

“Hey,” Jinyoung said and there weren’t feelings there. But there wasn’t resentment, either. And that felt good.

“I brought your things over.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I could have come and got them,” Jinyoung shook his head.

“Yeah, but I have the car,” Jaebeom shrugged.

The three of them went down to the car, taking turns bringing up boxes. When Jinyoung went down to the street to get another, he saw Youngjae and Jaebeom leaning against the car. They were talking but even from far away, something between them looked different. Jaebeom was leaned in a little too close. Youngjae’s smile was a little too coy. When Jinyoung approached, they made distance between themselves.

“Is that the last box?” Jinyoung asked.

“Yeah,” Jaebeom said.

“I can take it, hyung,” Youngjae squatted down to pick it up and went back inside.

Jinyoung and Jaebeom stood there for a moment. The swell of July heat leaving the edges of Jaebeom’s hair damp.

“Thank you for bringing those,” Jinyoung said. “I really appreciate it.”

“It was no trouble,” he shook his head. “Oh also,” Jaebeom noted, reaching back into the car and grabbing an envelope. “I managed to get some of the deposit back from the wedding hall.” He handed him the envelope. “It’s not much,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “But it should help.”

Jinyoung looked at it in his hands. “You don’t have to give this to me. You’re the one who put the deposit down.”

Jaebeom’s face felt uncomfortable. “It’s not a big deal. You’re traveling and you need it,” he shrugged. “Please just take it.”

Jinyoung had a moment where he considered turning it away. It didn’t feel right to take Jaebeom’s money after all the investment he had put into the both of them. But when he looked up, he saw the intensity of his eyes. “Thanks,” he said, sliding it into his pocket.

“I should get going,” Jaebeom sighed. “But have a good time in London.”

“I’ll get you a souvenir,” Jinyoung smiled. “What do you want?”

Jaebeom thought for a moment, leaning against the car. “Nothing,” he said simply. “I have everything that I want.”

Jinyoung nodded. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Jaebeom smiled. “I’ll see you.” He got back into his car, driving off.

When Jinyoung got back inside, Youngjae was moving the boxes into his music room. Fitting them somewhere between stacks of sheet music and the piano. “I’ll clean it out before you get back from London,” Youngjae said. “And then it can be a real bedroom for you.”

“Thank you, Youngjae.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Youngjae waved him away.

They sat down on the couch together.

“How is it?” Youngjae’s voice was quiet as his fingers tangled between his large sleeves.

“How’s what?” Jinyoung furrowed his brow.

“You and him,” the boy’s eyes wouldn’t meet his.

“I think we’re good,” Jinyoung smiled. “For the first time in a long time.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Youngjae licked his lips. His face nervous.

“About what?”

“Jaebeom” he said and for some reason it sounded different than every other time he had said it. He let out a shaky breath. “He’s been calling me.”

“Calling you?” Jinyoung narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah,” he nodded slowly. “Just to tell me about his day and talk and stuff.”

Jinyoung tilted his head, confused. “How often?”

Youngjae sighed. His eyes darting away. “I don’t know,” he rushed to say. “Maybe like once a day. Sometimes twice.”

“Every day?” Jinyoung’s eyes went wide.

Youngjae nodded. He sat up, grabbing Jinyoung’s hand. “I just… you’re my best friend. I don’t want to act inappropriately,” he rushed to say. “I know you two haven’t been broken up very long.”

Jinyoung scoffed. “You know better than anyone that it was over long before we broke up.”

Youngjae nodded. “I know. It’s just,” he sighed again, pained. “If you don’t want me to talk to him, I understand.”

“Well,” Jinyoung blinked. “When I told him to call you, I meant like take you out for a dinner. I didn’t think he’d take me so literally.”

Youngjae looked up. His eyes wide. “What?” he dropped his hand. “You told him to call me?”

Jinyoung nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why?” he huffed. “Why would you do that?” Youngjae was on the edge of a laugh but too overwhelmed with shock to let it out.

“Cause I’m trying to set you guys up,” Jinyoung shrugged. “You’re my two best friends now. And you’ve been pining from afar for literally our whole friendship.”

Youngjae sat back, eyes still wide. “Was I that obvious?” he let out a frustrated breath. “God, that’s so embarrassing. You should have said something.”

“Maybe I should have,” he laughed. “But it was kinda cute to watch.”

They looked at each other for a moment before laughing hard.

“So. Single Jinyoung,” Youngjae giggled. “Who would have ever thought?”

“Not me,” Jinyoung said. A little too honestly.

“Am I gonna have to wingman you now?” Youngjae smiled. “Take you out to the club.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that for a while.”

The energy died down and there was a long stretch of silence between them. Youngjae’s face toyed between words. He smiled soft. He spoke softer. “Do you still think about him?”

Jinyoung knew exactly who he was talking about. Paper skin and blonde hair flooded his mind. He licked his lips. He managed to smile but it was layered with profound sadness, “All the damn time.”

“Oh hyung,” Youngjae whined. “You really loved him.”

Jinyoung felt his eyes getting wet. “I did.”

Youngjae pursed his lips. He got up slowly. He crossed the room, flicking through a stack of sheet music. He grabbed something, turning back. “I swore I wasn’t gonna give you this,” his fingertips moving over the edges, nervously. He handed it to Jinyoung, sitting back down. He bit a nail.

Jinyoung turned it over in his hands. It was the literature department journal. The final copy from last semester. “Why did you get this?”

“They featured the graduating class. They did a write up on you and your research. I was going to frame it for you as a graduation gift. You know, for when you’re some super accomplished academic.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung said, lost. “Why are you giving this to me now?”

Youngjae huffed. “Just,” he stammered. “When you have time, read the final entry.”

Jinyoung looked at it again, unsure of what to say. “Thank you?”

“Well,” he screwed his face. “Don’t thank me yet.” He looked at his watch. “I need to head out for a lesson. Do you want me to bring you back some food?”

“Yes, please,” Jinyoung nodded, looking up from the journal.

After Youngjae left, Jinyoung looked to the journal. He stared down at it for a moment, wondering why Youngjae would find this significant. He flipped past the graduate features to the monthly entries. His eyes scanned the pages, looking for the last one.

_I don’t want to talk to you. Not like you’re here. Not like you can hear me._  
_I don’t want your ocean waves crashing in my ear._  
_For now, I know that I am one grain of sand in an endless coastline._  
_For now, I know that your ocean waves don’t crash for me._

_And yet,_  
_I keep tucking you into my life in places you should never be._  
_I keep hearing your cadence, strong and smiling._  
_Echoes of conversations in a space that doesn’t feel the same without you in it._  
_I'm dreaming every night. Only of you. Of waves and cliffs and sunrises._  
_But when I wake, you’ve withdrawn like an ebbing tide._  
_Because by the time you realize it was real, it will have been too late._

_I don’t want you._  
_At least not the way you were._  
_Unsettled, unsatisfied, nothing ever good enough._  
_An ocean that’s ruled by tides and moods._  
_I want to feel that I am not a grain of sand,_  
_But a whole ocean to someone._  
_-M.T._

When Jinyoung’s eyes grazed the author’s initials, he felt his heart swell like it hadn’t in a long time. His eyes furiously traveled back up. Reading the lines again. Two times, three times.

How many M.T.’s could there be at the school? How many of them could write this?

Jinyoung’s mind reeled back to the winning poem he had read in Mark’s car. He sighed, feeling like an idiot. “How did I not realize it?” he whispered.

Something about the words compelled him. Is this really what Mark thought? That he hadn’t meant what he said? That Mark meant nothing to him? He felt overcome with questions and desperate and selfish enough to feel like he deserved the answers.

He pulled on his sneakers and ran to the station, making his way down the green line to Mark’s stop. He didn’t know what he was doing and he didn’t know what he would say but he didn’t consider that until he was climbing the stairs to Mark’s studio.

He knocked on the door. Once. Twice. He was about to knock again when the door opened. A woman stood, a small dog on her hip. “Can I help you?” she asked, eyes wide.

Jinyoung’s mind blanked. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered out. “I’m looking for Mark Tuan.”

She shook her head. “There’s no one with that name here. I just moved in recently. I’m sorry.”

Jinyoung sighed, feeling like crying. “No. I’m sorry for disturbing you,” he managed to say. “Have a nice day.”

\---

The next week he spent time visiting all of Mark’s haunts. Seokchon Lake. The café on the far side of campus. The shady spots of the green. The Taiwanese restaurant. His eyes scanned endlessly for blonde hair and bright eyes, but he didn’t see them. He began to feel like he was chasing a memory that may not have happened. Like maybe it was a dream the whole time. A cruel trick of the light.

He had two days before he left for London when he spotted the next best thing. He was picking up transcripts from the university offices when he saw a pair walking into a café. One all legs and length and the other all bright hair and brighter clothing.

Jinyoung followed them inside. “Yugyeom, Bam,” he called, running up to them.

They looked up to him, exchanging glances with each other. Their stances suddenly shifting to something uneasy as their eyes darted away.

“How are you both?”

“We’re fine,” Bambam said, his face going tight.

“Good, good,” Jinyoung tried to smile. “Hey, do you know where Mark is? I tried to go to his apartment. But he moved?”

They were silent for a minute before Bambam spoke up. “What makes you think we would tell you?” he bit out. He took a step forward, one eyebrow raising over another.

“What?” Jinyoung was taken aback.

“You think you can just walk back into his life when you feel like it?”

“No,” Jinyoung said. “I just-“

“You just what?” he sneered. “What’s your excuse this time?”

Jinyoung slowed his words down. Trying to stay calm. “I just need to see him. I need to talk to him.”

Bambam squared up with him. “Well, he doesn’t need to see you.”

Yugyeom sighed, grabbing Bambam’s shoulders and pulling him back. “Bam,” he said, calmly. “Go wait outside.”

Bambam stood down but didn’t break eye contact with Jinyoung as he walked out of the café.

Jinyoung watched him go, his stomach sinking. He crossed his arms, feeling defensive. He looked back to Yugyeom. His face was tired, like he didn’t even want to be having this conversation.

“Jinyoung,” Yugyeom sighed, his voice quiet. “Let it go.”

Jinyoung felt his heartbeat pick up in his ears. “Let it go?” he questioned. “What do you mean?”

“He’s moved on,” Yugyeom nodded. “You should too.”

The words didn’t add up for him. “What are you talking about? It’s been what? Two months? Maybe a little more?”

Yugyeom scratched his head. “He’s moving out of Korea soon. He said he’s done. He doesn’t want to go back to the way it was.”

“Where’s he going?” Jinyoung rushed to ask. “Los Angeles?”

“Stop,” Yugyeom’s voice growing firmer. “You are the one who told him it was over.”

“But,” Jinyoung stumbled over his words. “I didn’t mean-It’s different now-” He gave an exasperated sigh. Not knowing how to explain.

Yugyeom shook his head, stopping him. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to be with you.”

Jinyoung took a moment. Tried to catch him breath. “He said that?”

“Yes,” Yugyeom nodded. “And you know him. He says what he means.”

Jinyoung licked his lips. He couldn’t find the words. His mind raced. “Can you just give him a message for me?”

“No,” Yugyeom said, resolutely. “It’s done, Jinyoung,” he said, not mincing his words. “Just let it go.” He passed by him, brushing his shoulder and leaving him with nothing but more questions.

\---

Jinyoung’s first month in London was a blur. He arrived and was surprised how different the air felt. Cooler and clearer, but still flooded with nerves. Out of the five chosen for the program, he was the only international student.

He was paired with a mentor, a professor at the university. She was all rough edges and quick wit and Jinyoung struggled to understand her at times, but she never came off as insensitive towards him. He worked well under her, helping her with publishing her research and preparing her lectures for the fall semester. He kept to himself, not being overly social with the rest of the cohort. Spending his weekends walking around the city streets, looking out over bridges, touring museums, and going to shows in the West End. All while thinking about how somewhere in this world, Mark was existing without him and he couldn’t help but wonder what that looked like.

He was a month in when his mentor called him into her office. It felt grand and regal in the way that almost everything in London did. He sat himself opposite from her, leaning against the intricate woodwork of her chairs. Feeling the lush green velvet seat with his nervous hands. Wondering if he was in trouble.

“What would you think about traveling?” she said.

“Traveling for what?”

“I have a conference coming up and I’m doing a presentation and a panel. I need someone to come with me and help me with setting up. Organizing my meetings.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung nodded. “Where is it?”

“Chicago.”

Jinyoung blinked. “Oh, okay.”

“Have you been to America?”

“Yes,” he said. “Once.”

“Good cause I already booked you,” she smiled smugly, wiggling her brows. “I got you a lake view room. With a balcony.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Okay, then,” he nodded. “When do we leave?”

\---

They left the next day. She sat in business class while he sat in coach. He couldn’t help but realize that he had flown across the whole world in the past few months but had little to show for it but a broken heart and an empty bank account.

They were there for four days and immediately began attending presentations. Jinyoung sat in, listening closely, taking notes on who was who and what they studied and where they taught. His mentor introduced him to countless professors. From University of Toronto to MIT to Stanford to Yale. “He just graduated top of his class in Seoul,” she would say, ruthlessly direct. “He’s looking to enter a Ph.D. program next fall. I heard you’re taking students.” And Jinyoung wasn’t comfortable with how blunt she was but he couldn’t complain once he began collecting business cards and emails.

“I appreciate you helping me network,” he said one morning, handing her a coffee.

“Thank you. The jet lag is killing me,” she sighed, taking a sip before speaking. “Jinyoung. I’m not stupid. You’re not here to be my assistant forever. It’s my job to help you make connections. I know you’re a bit shy, but this is part of the game.”

“I’m not shy,” he shook his head. “It’s just I don’t speak English very well and-“

“You’re English is improving every day,” she waved him away. “But I did want to talk to you about that,” she took another sip. “I know your master’s program was in Korean but if you want to get into a university abroad, you’re going to have to start compiling some writing samples in English.”

He sighed. “Yeah,” he considered the idea. Knowing it was what he needed. “I can work on that.”

“What’s the next panel?” she looked at her watch.

He looked over her schedule. “Immigration Themes in Modern Latin American Lit. It was limited seating, so I was only able to get a seat for you.”

“You okay on your own?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nodded. “I need to work on some stuff anyway.”

“Alright,” she nodded, patting his shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

He walked himself to the quad. The historic architecture loomed over. He was sitting on a bench. The much-needed breeze swayed the trees and blew away his stressful thoughts.

He looked up, watching people walk to and from, thinking distantly about how all universities are the same. His eyes were passively watching when something stood out to him. A face. Exposed to the summer sun and glowing in the light. Cutting cheekbones and an expansive neck that lead itself into a shirt that was one button too unbuttoned. A body that was all angles and lines.

Jinyoung felt himself stand without thinking. He felt his throat go dry, his neck burn. He walked, pacing over the sidewalk, on a path to intercept. The blood rushed in his ears as he got closer. He felt the crispness of his features rivaling Jinyoung’s memory. He called out to him.

“Mark.” It felt welcome in his ears. Like he had missed the sound of his name rolling through him.

The boy looked up, his face moving from passive to active. His eyes deepening, his mouth going small. His shoulders stiffening. Reading as nothing but surprised.

Jinyoung jogged up to him.

He was almost the same. But he was dressed professionally. A far cry from his usual LA skater boy style. And his hair. His hair wasn’t a pale blonde but a soft dark brown. The change somehow making his skin appear more porcelain. Jinyoung tried not to imagine how it would feel between his fingers.

“Hi,” Jinyoung said. Slipping immediately into Korean for the first time in a month. And just that switch alone made him feel more comfortable.

“Hi,” Mark rushed to say. “Wh-,” his brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

Jinyoung’s ears tingled at the sound of his voice. It felt surreal. He felt himself measuring his own value in the breathes Mark used to talk to him, calories burned to acknowledge him, thinking about the blood circulating through Mark just to carry his image and voice to his brain. How lucky he was to have this moment. How lucky anyone was to be in the same space as him. “Uh,” he rushed to process. “I’m here for a conference. I came from my program in London.”

“Oh,” he blinked.

“Why are you here?”

Mark licked his lips, “Um, I’m touring law schools.”

“Your hair is different,” Jinyoung sputtered out.

“Yeah,” Mark ran a hand through it, self-conscious. “Just needed a change.”

“It looks nice,” he said, not knowing if it was appropriate. Navigating this interaction blindfolded but eager.

“Thanks,” he almost smiled but seemed to stop himself. “I don’t want to be rude,” he looked at his watch. “But I got a tour to make.”

“Right,” Jinyoung nodded. He felt a rush of something in him. And he didn’t know whether it was courage or desperation. “Listen. Do you have any free time while you’re here?”

Mark swallowed. “Yeah,” his chest seemed to still. “I mean, I’m free tonight.”

“Would you maybe want to…” Jinyoung’s voice trailed off for a moment. He tried to think what normal people do. Not people who have mile long histories. Not like them. “Would you want to grab a drink?”

Mark’s mouth flattened into a thin line. His eyes clouded. He hesitated. “I don’t know, Jinyoung.”

The connotation was there. Of what drinks could mean. Of the possibility that they could slip up again and end up pressed up against a wall reopening wounds that hadn’t even healed yet. And even with the wavering in his voice, Jinyoung couldn’t help but love the sound of his name in Mark’s mouth.

Jinyoung licked his lips, feeling his chest tighten. “Just a drink,” he nodded. “I promise.” It was a big promise to make especially when he felt this magnetized. Even just standing opposite him, he felt himself having a flashback of how their bodies slotted together. How he wanted to feel that again. How he’d give anything to feel that again.

Mark’s eyes were holding his. Walking that line of sure and unsure. Almost pained. “Okay,” he said. Simply. The hesitancy not leaving his eyes.

“I should be done around 6,” Jinyoung rushed to say. “Do you want to meet up here then?”

Mark thought for a moment. “Uh,” he looked down, scratching his eyebrow before looking back up again. “Yeah. That works for me.”

\---

There was a moment when Jinyoung thought Mark may not come. As he was sitting on the bench, watching the sky beginning to turn in preparation of sunset. He thought back to Mark’s eyes, untrusting. His body language, awkward.

Why would Mark even want to come? Yugyeom had said he moved on. Why would he even care about Jinyoung anymore? Maybe he was just being polite. Or maybe he would tell him tonight. That he didn’t want to see him again. Fateful encounters or not.

“Hey,” Jinyoung heard the voice before he looked to see him. Mark stood. He had changed his clothes to something more relaxed. But his face was still tight and restrained. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung smiled and they walked together. “I heard about a bar a few streets away.”

They walked the distance without speaking. Jinyoung felt overly conscious of Mark’s presence next to him. He wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Wanted to look over to him and see him smile back and know that all was right again. But all he got was profile.

The bar was underground and they descended the stairs to a dark room. A mix of pool tables and wood booths. Looking like something out of a seventies American college movie. They ordered beers at the bar. Jinyoung tried to pay but Mark shook his head. “Don’t,” he said simply before handing over his card and having them pay separately. They sat down at a booth. The bar was still quiet, waiting for the evening crowd to roll through.

Jinyoung looked at Mark sitting across from him. And Mark looked back but couldn’t hold his stare for long before he was darting his eyes away.

“How have you been?” Mark asked first, taking a sip of his beer.

“Good,” Jinyoung heard his voice in his ears. Not sure if it was a lie or not but it felt like one with Mark this close yet this far. “I’m almost halfway through the program. I’m helping my mentor with some research. I should make the et. al. when it gets published.”

“Wow. Congrats,” he nodded, spinning his glass against the table. “What’s next?”

Jinyoung sighed. Hating that question. “I’m not sure,” he took a sip. “I’ve just been working on putting one foot in front of the other.”

Mark nodded, more than just understanding.

“What about you?”

Mark licked his lips. “I’m touring a few schools right now. Doing some interviews. Studying for entrance exams,” he listed.

“You moved apartments,” Jinyoung commented. Trying not to think back to the crisp white walls and the filtered light through the blinds and the warmth of the heated floors.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was just,” he swallowed. “Too many memories.”

Jinyoung felt a chill coat his body that wasn’t from the beer. He tried to shake it off. “And now, you’re going to America? That’s a big move.”

“Yeah, it feels like the right time,” Mark nodded. “I need some distance.”

“I’m sure your family is happy to have you closer.” He smiled. Remembering their warmth. How their love for Mark radiated from them.

“Yeah, they are,” Mark smiled sincerely for the first time since he sat down.

And they talked like this for what felt like hours. About how Youngjae was doing and Yugyeom and Bam. About Mark’s niece starting pre-school in a few weeks. About how hot and miserable Seoul got this time of year. They ordered a second beer. And Jinyoung couldn’t help but think that if this was the only Mark he could ever have again, this Mark at a distance who didn’t want to rehash anything old, didn’t want to discuss the elephant in the room. If this was the only Mark he could get, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

They had finished their beers and Jinyoung offered to get a third, but Mark had waved a hand at him. “No,” he stopped him. “I should really be getting back.”

They walked outside, stopping out front. Jinyoung looked at the way the sun was setting behind his head, fighting through his dark locks. Silhouetting all of the hesitancy in his features. Feeling oceans away yet wanting to be so much closer. “Can I walk you back to your hotel?”

Mark looked down to the ground, smiling slightly to himself. “No,” he put his hands in his pockets. “I can do it myself.”

Jinyoung wasn’t sure if it was the drinks or the proximity, but he knew he couldn’t let himself feel deterred.

“Are you staying much longer?” he rushed to say.

“The day after tomorrow,” Mark smiled.

“Would you,” his voice shook. “Want to hang out tomorrow maybe? I have a free day.”

His eyes went a bit stale. He took in a deep breath. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“It’s probably not,” Jinyoung agreed. “But I figured I had to try.”

Mark looked down to his feet in thought. He took a long moment to think. “I could make some time.”

Jinyoung felt himself warm. “Really?”

Mark nodded. “Maybe,” he thought. “Maybe I can come to your hotel around eleven?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m at the Hotel Ballard. Near the lake.”

Mark nodded. “I’ll find it,” he said. “I’m heading this way,” he pointed behind him. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung sighed. “See you tomorrow.”

\---

Jinyoung didn’t have a free day. So when he heard a knock at his door that morning, he ran to the sink to splash water onto his face. He slid on the hotel robe. He rubbed his eyes roughly as he was pulling open the door.

“Hey,” his mentor said. Her eyes questioning. “I got your message this morning. What’s up?”

Jinyoung coughed into his arm. “I’m so sorry,” he wheezed. “I felt a little funny yesterday but I thought it was just jet lag.” He sighed. “I think I’ve come down with something.”

His mentor crossed her arm, tutting her tongue against her teeth. “Bloody fucking airplanes,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry I’ve… exposed you to these new American viruses.”

He smiled slightly before remembering he was sick. “It’s okay,” he waved her away. “I think I just need a day to rest.”

“Yes, yes,” she nodded. “Please. Order some tea and recuperate.”

“Thank you so much,” he said. “Again, I’m really sorry.”

“Nonsense,” she stopped him. “Feel better, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung spent the rest of the morning getting ready. Feeling nervous. Wondering if this is how people feel when they go on dates. Wondering if he could even call it a date. Of course not. They were just friends. He looked at himself in the mirror. Almost laughing. Knowing how delusional that sounded. Even just trapped inside his head.

When Jinyoung came down, Mark was waiting for him in the lobby. His hair was pushed back off his face and his denim jacket overwhelmed him. Jinyoung knew the body that was underneath it and felt desperate to uncover it.

“Where to?” Mark said. His eyes more open today. More curious. Like he was testing these waters.

Jinyoung walked them out to the street, hailing a taxi and telling the taxi driver to take them to the art museum.

Mark stared out the window at the passing skyscrapers. The midday light reflecting off his face. Jinyoung watched him, thinking that cities would never be cities again without him in them.

They got out and ducked into a café, buying coffees. Once at the museum, they wandered around for a couple of hours. Pointing out things they liked. Places they wanted to see. Mark translating a few of the labels. Talking about every other history but their own.

The museum opened up to an expansive room. All bright light shining in through glass ceilings. Every footstep echoing endlessly against the surface. Heavy marble covering every inch from the tall columns to the sculptures lining the floor. Their curves and edges a mix of hard and soft. Their faces blank, almost pained.

They stood in front of one. Three people stood, the light shining off the endless planes of their bodies. A man burying in his face in a woman’s shoulder while she held the hand of another man. Each of their faces looking more pained than the next.

“What does this one say?” Jinyoung stood at a distance, unable to take his eyes away.

Mark went up to, leaning towards the label. “The Solitude of the Soul,” he read out, roughly translating it as he spoke. “The thought is the eternally present fact that however closely we may be thrown together by circumstances… we are unknown to each other."

The moment felt the way art museums do. Quiet and intimate despite the vastness of the space. It felt right when Jinyoung came up behind Mark, getting close so that he could speak softly. Trying to ignore the whiff of cinnamon candy flooding his senses.

“What kind of art would you be?” Jinyoung whispered to Mark.

Mark’s shoulders jumped and he looked back at him. “What do you mean?”

“Would you be a photograph or a portrait or a mosaic or an abstract? What would you be?”

Mark smiled to himself for a moment. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. “What do you think I would be?”

Jinyoung didn’t have to think about it. He had already thought about it a million times before. Through every museum he toured in London. He beckoned his head towards the piece in front of him. “A sculpture,” he looked at him. “A marble sculpture.”

“Why?” Mark questioned.

“So they could keep you in the light,” he shrugged. “So people could look upon you and think you were some idealized version of what humans are supposed to be, but little do they know that you were real.”

Mark looked down, concealing a smile. “Well,” he said. “You’d be a painting.”

“Really?” Jinyoung smiled. “What kind?”

Mark thought for a moment. “An impressionist painting,” he nodded, like he had it all figured out.

“And why is that?” Jinyoung narrowed his eyes, a smile playing across his face.

“No structure. Pretty from afar but a mess up close.”

“Touché,” he smiled. “Would it be of me? A handsome portrait?” He held up his thumbs and forefingers, framing his face with a smile and a wink.

“No,” Mark shook his head. “It would be of the ocean.”

Jinyoung stopped. Looking at him. Feeling the swell of his chest like a wave.

He spoke before he could think. “I read your poem.”

“What poem?” Mark said, his eyes going surprised.

Jinyoung didn’t say thing. He just looked at him, letting him know that there wasn’t any use in lying.

“Sorry,” Mark said, his shoulders sinking. “It was petty of me to submit it.”

“It wasn’t,” Jinyoung shook his head. “It was beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s eyes brightened. He tucked a piece of hair away from his face.

“I mean,” Jinyoung hissed through his teeth. “It was a bit hard to read. As you can imagine.”

“It was harder to write,” Mark shrugged.

Jinyoung was silent for a moment. Feeling the guilt wash over him. Knowing that just because it was about him, didn’t mean he was entitled to those feelings. They didn’t belong to him. “Just,” he scratched behind his ear, his voice quiet. “Is that what you really think? About what happened?”

Mark’s eyes got a little narrower. He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Do you really that I didn’t care about you? That you weren’t important to me?”

Mark swallowed. He looked back to the sculpture. “You didn’t really give me any reason to believe differently.”

Jinyoung stepped closer, his voice going soft. “But I told you. You knew it. When we were in California.”

“And then I came back and you were gone,” he looked back to him, his eyes intense. “And I had to go home and explain to my family where you’d gone. Why you’d gone.”

Jinyoung felt uneasy. He sighed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that,” he felt the tightness in his chest. “He just showed up and he gave me an ultimatum. I didn’t feel like I could say no.”

Mark looked at him. Eyes certain. Nodding his head. “But you could have,” Mark said like it was simple. Always like it was simple.

Jinyoung was trying to think of how he could save this when Mark held up a hand, silencing him. “Forget it,” he said. “Let’s not rehash the past.”

And Jinyoung felt desperate to do so but he didn’t want to push, so he stopped. Dropping the conversation.

By the time they left the museum, the light was fading behind the skyscrapers.

“You wanna grab some dinner?” Jinyoung offered.

Mark nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m starving.”

They found an Italian restaurant down the street. They ordered their pasta, Jinyoung requesting a bottle of red wine for them.

“You don’t have to,” Mark shook his head.

“Please,” Jinyoung stopped him. “It’s a special occasion.”

Mark’s eyes flickered, his head tilting as the waiter filled his glass. “And what’s that?”

Jinyoung didn’t say. He just smiled and held up his glass. “To old friends,” Jinyoung toasted.

“Right,” Mark sneered, tapping his glass. “That’s what we are.” But even through the biting tone, a smile, wide and playful, spread across his face and into his eyes.

Jinyoung took a sip, letting his head dizzy and pretending it was just from the wine. He licked his lips, looking at Mark across the table. The candlelight softening him. “We’ve never had Italian together,” Jinyoung mused.

“That’s cause it’s shit in Korea,” Mark laughed.

“Don’t be cynical,” Jinyoung scoffed. “It’s not that bad.”

“The sauce is too sweet. Everything there is too sweet.”

Jinyoung took another sip, smiling to himself. “Well, you just didn’t go to the right place then.”

“Well, you should have taken me there then.”

“I still could,” Jinyoung smirked.

Mark stopped, looking over at him. He rolled his eyes. “Stop flirting.”

Jinyoung shrugged. Not arguing that he wasn’t.

Another glass of wine later, the waiter delivered the food to their table.

“How is it?” Jinyoung asked.

Mark nodded, covering his open mouth with his hand. “So good.”

“Not too sweet?” Jinyoung joked.

“Just right. How’s yours?”

Jinyoung spun it around his fork, scooping it up and reaching it towards Mark.

Mark looked at him, his shoulders dropping and his eyes going dark.

Jinyoung smiled. “Just indulge me.”

Mark scoffed before taking the bite off his fork. Looking across at him with his brows furrowed but his eyes smiling. “It’s good,” he said. He took another sip of wine.

Jinyoung felt warmth flooding him. They finished their dishes. They worked on their third glasses of wine when the bottle emptied. They sat in comfortable silence. Sharing smiles as if they were inside jokes only for each other.

“I actually had a fun day with you,” Mark said, something different in his tone. As if he was surprised he was saying it.

“I don’t think having fun was ever a problem for us,” Jinyoung smirked.

Mark looked back at him through heavy lashes. He opened his mouth. “But I should be getting back. I have a flight in the morning.”

Jinyoung felt the buzz of nerves inside him. “You can’t go,” Jinyoung heard himself say. “I’ll miss you too much.”

Mark concealed a grin. He took another sip of wine. There seemed to be a moment where he toyed between words. “I’ll bring you a souvenir,” he said, through a soft smile. “What do you want?”

Jinyoung felt the warmth rushing in. Remembering white walls and morning light. Knowing that Mark remembered all of that too.

“You,” he leaned forward, taking Mark’s hand under the table. “Only you.”

Mark’s eyes looked into his. The brightness quickly hazing with clouds. A lump settling in the low of his throat. His hand going cold. He pulled away slowly. He licked his lips. He finished his wine in one go, smacking his lips. “I’ve got to go,” he said. He swiftly got up, walking out.

Jinyoung watched him walking away. When he was out of sight, he put his head in his hands. Unable to string together how that went so wrong. “Fuckfuckfuck,” he murmured under his breath. He sighed hard, sitting back up. He whipped out his wallet, throwing several bills on the table before rushing out.

By the time he was outside the restaurant, he could see Mark halfway down the street, fading into the darkness. He ran, trying not to lose sight of him as the distance between the streetlights started stretching out into greater and greater voids of black asphalt. He locked onto the square of Mark’s tight shoulders, feeling the burn in his lungs. He came upon him, reaching out, grabbing his arm. “Wait,” he breathed out.

Mark turned, tearing away from his touch. “What do you want?” his voice almost screamed. “What are you trying to do to me?” he didn’t wait for a response. “Are you just trying to get in my head? Just to prove to yourself that you’re still there?”

“No,” Jinyoung tried to catch his breath, putting his hands to his knees. “I promise. I’m not.”

Mark scowled at him. His eyes full of rage. His breaths seething through him. Looking like he was ready to throw a punch. “Where is it?” Mark spat.

Jinyoung blinked, standing slowly. The question didn’t add up. “Where is what?”

Mark sighed, ragged and broken. As if his rage was dissolving into heated desperation. “Your wedding ring,” he choked out. “Why aren’t you wearing it?”

Jinyoung felt his chest tighten. His mouth opened but the words wouldn’t come out.

Mark saw his hesitation. “Did you think the sight of it would put me off?” he said, his voice coated with poison. “Or is it for you? Did you think you knew how this would go? Did you think it would be easier to fall back into me if you didn’t have it on?”

Jinyoung looked up at him. Seeing the dejection in his eyes and the way it mixed with his fury. “Mark,” he said. His shoulders dropped. He shook his head, “I didn’t get married.”

Mark’s brows furrowed. His mouth got small. His eyes shifted to something else. “I remember… it was in July.” Jinyoung could see the thoughts darting across his face. “Did you move it out? Because you were going to London?” his voice quick, trying to piece the puzzle together.

“No,” Jinyoung ran a hand through his hair. Suddenly feeling nervous. “We…” he struggled with having to say it. “I ended things between us.”

Mark went still, his eyes becoming distant. As if of all the possibilities he had considered, that one had never crossed his mind. The silence felt long. The only thing between them was the breeze tangling their thoughts. When Mark spoke again, his voice was quiet. “How long ago?”

“Over two months ago?” Jinyoung estimated.

Mark swallowed. His eyes were fading out. He looked like he might pass out.

“Hey,” Jinyoung grabbed his arm. “Are you okay?”

Mark didn’t meet his eyes, but he nodded.

Jinyoung looked at him, concerned. “Let’s get a taxi,” Jinyoung pulled him towards the main road. “We’ll go back towards the university.”

Mark looked down at the asphalt, letting himself be pulled.

Jinyoung instinctively grabbed for his hand, lacing their fingers. He was surprised when Mark didn’t pull away. When they were back on the main road, Jinyoung hailed a cab, letting Mark crawl inside and following him.

Mark stared out the window again, the city lights dancing against his skin. Warm and fleeting. His eyes distant and unreadable. His fingers still intertwined with Jinyoung’s but passive. Neither pulling away nor pulling him closer.

They pulled into Jinyoung’s hotel, getting out in the circle of valet cars.

Mark looked around, the bright lights of the lobby illuminating his face. His eyes wide, scared like he’d been caught in the headlights of his realization.

Jinyoung felt the need to soothe him. To make it better. Whatever he had fucked up this time. His hand felt for Mark’s face, smoothing against his cheek. He saw the boy look back.

“Come up to my room,” he said. “I’ll make you a drink.”

Mark’s face tugged. His eyebrows knit together. He didn’t pull his eyes away. “I can’t.”

“You want to.”

“I can’t,” Mark said, again. Each time sounding less and less sure.

Jinyoung didn’t say anything. He just looked up at him, tucking his hair away from his face. Deeply trying to convey everything. That he was sorry. That he was worried. That he wanted to help. That he wanted more than that. “Please,” he said once more, barely a sound leaving his throat.

Mark sighed hard, his chest quaking. “Just one drink,” he said, licking his lips.

Jinyoung dragged him inside, up the elevator, to his room, opening the door wide and letting him come in. The sheets fresh and folded and the curtains thrown open.

“Here,” Jinyoung felt for the edges of Mark’s jacket, tipping it off his shoulders and onto the carpet. He opened the doors to the balcony. “You need fresh air.”

Mark stepped outside, leaning his bare arms against the bannister. He seemed to let out a breath. They both looked out over the side. The blackness of lake threatening to consume them.

“Why’d you do that?” Mark whispered into the wind. His throat scratchy.

“You know why,” Jinyoung shook his head. “You know I didn’t love him.”

“But why did you tell me?” Mark’s voice sounded tired.

“Why wouldn’t I tell you?”

“You shouldn’t have told me.”

Jinyoung looked at him. His exposed shoulders were shaking though it wasn’t cold. His head was dropped low.

“Come here,” Jinyoung reached out, trying to still him.

Mark took a step back. Batting Jinyoung’s hands away.

“Please, Mark,” Jinyoung begged. “Please.” He reached out again and Mark didn’t protest this time. He pulled him into his arms, feeling over his shoulder blades. Resting his cheek against his bare shoulder. Closing his eyes. Imagining that this skin on skin was something more than it was.

“I missed this,” he caught himself whispering. “I missed you so much. Every goddamn day.”

“Don’t say that,” Mark trembled in his arms but didn’t pull away.

“You know it’s true.”

Mark was silent for a moment. “Why didn’t you come and find me?”

Jinyoung was quiet. “What?”

Mark pulled away. He looked into his eyes. They were wet and hurt. “After you broke up with him. Why didn’t you come and tell me?”

“Mark,” Jinyoung combed a hand through his hair. “I tried. I went to your apartment. You were gone. And I looked everywhere. I saw Yugyeom and Bam,” he urged. “I tried to tell them. They were furious with me,” he shook his head. “They said you were moving to America. They said you didn’t want me anymore. That those were your words.”

Mark let out a long breath, heated. He looked back out towards the water. He didn’t respond.

Jinyoung spoke again. “Were those your words?”

“Of course, they were,” Mark’s voice boomed. “Can you even imagine how I felt? What I was going through?”

Jinyoung saw him grip the bannister, stretching out. Like he was trying to shrug off the feeling of his skin.

“I felt like I was going crazy. I felt like I had imagined everything that happened. I never wanted to feel like that again. Never wanted to be treated like that again.”

“You told them you didn’t want me,” Jinyoung voice was dark, heavy. He stepped forward, into Mark’s space. His face close to his. “Did you mean it?”

Mark’s face sank. Eyes skimming over. His breaths slow. His mouth small. He shook his head, faintly.

Jinyoung licked his lips. “What about now?” he whispered out. “Do you still want me?”

Mark furrowed his brows. “Such a stupid question,” he bit out, closing the distance between them. He kissed him, his hands diving into his hair.

Jinyoung stumbled back, feeling his back against the balcony. Feeling the summer wind skating around them and how Mark pressed himself into him. He felt his hands in his hair and his hips pressed close and his scent filling his nose. The memory of it rushing back to him.

Jinyoung pushed him back through the door into his room. He grabbed his arm. Pulling him to the bed.

Mark followed, jumping into the sheets and pulling Jinyoung into him. Both of them on their knees, tongues dancing over each other. Hands desperate to explore necks and shoulders and waists. Mark pulled at Jinyoung’s shirt, untucking it from his waist and diving his hands underneath. Raking his skin with his fingertips, holding him close. Feeling like he would never let go.

Jinyoung grabbed at the hem of his shirt and tossed it over his head with ease. Looking upon his chest and his torso and the way all the angles added up to this perfect plane of never-ending skin. He pushed him down onto the bed, lips and teeth finding all the skin from his neck to his hips. Kissing and nipping a trail.

As he rounded his tongue over Mark’s hip bones, he sat back up. He unbuttoned his shirt, watching the way Mark bit his lip and snaked his hand up to feel Jinyoung through his trousers. The way his dark hair made him look sinister and devious in a way the blonde never did.

“Fuck,” Jinyoung cursed as he felt himself getting harder against Mark’s hand. He undid his belt, needing to feel more of him.

Mark didn’t hesitate to reach below his waist band and feel him.

Jinyoung felt his head rolling back at the way he did it so masterfully. He regained his control, leaning forward and kissing Mark hard. Letting his mouth find the spot behind his ear and letting his teeth grate against it. Hearing the hiss is Mark’s throat when he did.

He pulled back, grabbing at the waistband of Mark’s jeans and deftly undoing the buttons. He shoved them down his hips, letting them fall to the floor. His hand going to touch him, his mouth going to kiss him, his mind moving in circles around him.

Jinyoung felt him getting hard in his hand but he needed more. He slipped off the bed, his knees going to the floor. His hands raked for Mark’s thighs, drawing him close till he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked up at him, as if he still wanted confirmation.

Mark looked down at him between his legs. His eyebrows furrowed, his mouth open. He let go of a breath. “Don’t make me beg.”

Jinyoung smiled up at him. He licked his lips before bringing Mark to them, letting his tongue reach out, running along the tip, delicately. Tasting the way his skin mixed with the red wine.

Mark bucked his hips, eager and desperate to have more.

Jinyoung smiled around him, watching him, as he began to move against him.

Mark let out a moan, leaning back onto his forearms. He tried to keep his hips from lifting deeper into Jinyoung’s mouth but Jinyoung could tell it was taking considerable self-control.

When Jinyoung started tasting too much pre-cum, he pulled off.

“Ugh,” Mark groaned. “Why’d you stop?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Don’t you want something better?”

Mark nodded. His eyes bright.

“Turn over,” he commanded and Mark did, getting on his hands and knees.

Jinyoung climbed back on the bed, sitting on his knees, behind him. He let his hand run over his ass, feeling the curve of it below his palm. He licked his two fingers, smoothing them over his entrance before sliding one in.

Mark hissed, rocking forward first away from the sensation before leaning back into it.

Jinyoung slid another finger into him, massaging him open to a chorus of muffled groans.

Jinyoung felt himself throbbing at the sight. Mark open and pliable in his bed again. Rocking back onto his hand like he had gravely missed it. He felt overcome with want. Slipping his hand away.

Mark collapsed forward, shifting himself until he was back on his knees, his hands looped around Jinyoung’s neck, licking into his mouth with renewed vigor. The firm line of their bodies pressing against each other. Jinyoung’s hands gripping his ass and pulling him closer.

Jinyoung broke away, looking up at him. “You didn’t bring…”

Mark scoffed. “Why would I have?”

Jinyoung groaned. “Come on,” grabbing his arm and pulling him.

He dragged him into the bathroom, switching on the shower. He pushed Mark under the spray, watching how he shuttered from the cold water before grabbing Jinyoung’s arm and pulling him into it. The frigidness causing them both to lose their breaths. They smiled, water streaming through their hair and into their faces before kissing again.

“Turn around,” Jinyoung growled and watched as Mark flipped himself, leaning into the tile. He pushed his hair out of his own face, delighted by the sight.

Jinyoung’s fingers slipped back inside him, moving against him and hearing the echo of every small noise the boy made reverberate against the shower walls. Feeling the water shift from cold to hot against their skin.

He grabbed the lotion off the bathroom shelf, uncapping it and coating himself in it. Letting his hand run over himself and relishing the much-needed contact before looking upon Mark’s open body.

He eagerly slid into him and they both moaned loud. The steam filled Jinyoung’s lungs and it felt almost like drowning. He felt Mark around him, pulsing and tight. He grabbed his hips, pulling out of him before pushing back in.

He grabbed onto Mark’s neck. At the dark wet hair painting the nape. The firm line where it met his shoulder. And he leveraged himself further and further inside him. Feeling the way Mark’s shoulders tensed at every coming thrust. Jinyoung’s head rolled back and his eyes shut tight.

Jinyoung didn’t stop as he noticed his hips getting fumbled the closer he got to reaching his height. Feeling lightheaded and breathless in the steam.

He opened his eyes, seeing the curve of Mark’s profile as he looked back. Seeing the way his chin met his shoulder and the gesture would almost had been demure if he hadn’t been getting nailed into the shower wall. Something about it had Jinyoung whimpering into his climax, filling Mark up and collapsing against him.

He wanted to take a moment for himself, to come down off his high, but when Mark turned back around exposing himself, hard and needy, Jinyoung’s mind went other places. He dropped to his knees, not caring about the hard tile, and grabbed Mark’s tight hips, bringing them closer.

He took him in his mouth. He worked against him with vicious speeds, tasting him and knowing that he could never have enough of him.

Mark’s hands found his wet hair, resting on either side of his head. They leveraged him closer, deeper, until he was feverishly fucking into Jinyoung’s face. His head rolling back against the tile and his knees almost buckling.

Jinyoung grabbed at his thighs with bruising force, holding him up as his eyes began to water from the pressure.

Mark didn’t stop until he was releasing a string of moans that were sweet music in Jinyoung’s ears. He came hard into Jinyoung’s mouth as if he hadn’t in a long time and that made both of them.

Jinyoung coaxed the last of it out of him, holding it in his mouth and savoring it.

He stood up, backing Mark against the wall. The hot water still ran as their chests heaved in unison.

“Don’t swallow all of it,” Mark whispered into his lips. “I wanna taste it on you.”

And Jinyoung complied, rationing a little onto his tongue before taking down the rest. He leaned into Mark, kissing him. Licking into his mouth, feeling the way his tongue deftly moved across his. Eating it out of his mouth.

“Mmm,” Mark hummed against his mouth. “Why’s it got to taste so good on you?”

And if Jinyoung hadn’t just come, he may have again but instead he just moaned and felt like his ears may pop and kept kissing him like this until there was nothing to taste except the faint aroma of red wine.

“Come on,” Mark switched off the water and grabbed a towel. He put it over Jinyoung’s head, shaking his hair and drawing him close to kiss him again.

“Enough,” Jinyoung growled into his mouth. “I wanna fall asleep in your arms.” He grabbed a towel for Mark, wrapping it around his body and soaking up all the warm water that was trailing down his sharp planes.

When they were towel-dried, they went back into the room. Jinyoung switched off the lights, falling into bed and pulling Mark over him. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling the sheets over them. He buried his head in the crook of his neck, smelling his cinnamon candy scent.

“God,” he whispered into the darkness. “I never missed something as much as I have you.”

He couldn’t see Mark’s face, but he didn’t think he needed to. He trusted him. “Get some rest, Jinyoung,” Mark soothed, rubbing circles rhythmically into his back until he slipped into a quiet sleep.

\---

When Jinyoung’s eyes opened, the light in the room was strong. The sun was up and when Jinyoung looked, he could see its reflection against Lake Michigan blinding his tired eyes. He looked to the bed, seeing it empty. His eyes traveling up.

Mark was across the room, pulling on his jacket.

“Where are you going?” Jinyoung sat up quickly, feeling the chill of the room against his skin.

Mark looked back at him; his eyes distant. “I have a flight to catch,” his voice indifferent.

Jinyoung could hear it in his voice. Knowing him too well. Knowing instantly what was coming. He got up, grabbing his trousers off the floor and pulling them on with haste. He crossed over to him and put a hand on his arm.

“Mark,” he stopped him. “Please.”

“What?” Mark sighed, exasperated.

“Talk to me. Don’t just run,” Jinyoung’s voice edging on angry. “Don’t just leave me here.”

“Like you did in LA,” Mark murmured under his breath.

It cut Jinyoung, thinking back to that day. “Yes,” he said. “Don’t make the same mistake as me.”

Mark sighed. “There’s nothing to say.”

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung’s voice getting louder. “Last night-” he started.

“Last night was a mistake,” Mark interrupted him. He rubbed his face. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t want that to happen.”

Jinyoung’s stomach dropped. “Well whether you wanted it to happen or not, I know you felt it. We know there’s still feelings there.”

“As if feelings ever made it anything but worse.”

“Listen to me,” Jinyoung grabbed for him.

Mark pulled his arm away roughly. “I’m done listening. I’m done letting you speak circles around me to get your way. God. You always do this. It’s always a last-ditch effort. A desperate attempt to be feel special. To feel validated.”

“That’s not it,” he shook his head. Denying any truth in it.

“That’s always it.”

“No, Mark,” his mouth tingled. He felt a rush come over him. He fisted his hands. “I love you.”

Mark stopped. Everything about him freezing. Going from heated to nothing. His eyes not leaving Jinyoung’s. Bright but cold like ice. Trying to process. Trying to read him.

Jinyoung licked his lips. Feeling the release of the words. Feeling the sting of his eyes. “An-and,” he struggled to start again, reaching out and grabbing Mark’s hands. “I know you love me too. I know you almost said it. In the car at the lookout. And on the beach at sunrise too. And I knew you were too afraid. And so was I. I knew I couldn’t live up to those things I said.”

Jinyoung pulled him closer, sitting him down on the bed. His throat felt thick. And when he spoke it was hoarse, rough with emotion. “Mark. I know what I did. I know who I was,” he shook his head. “I was cruel and I was vain and never for a second did I question whether or not you loved me, but I exploited it every moment I was with you.” The tears rushed to his eyes.

“But I’ve faced the truth,” they started to spill over his face. “I’ve made my peace with Jaebeom. I’ve told him what I did. And why I did it. And how much it meant to me even if no one else could understand that. Not even you.”

Mark looked upon him. His eyes filling with tears and pain. When he spoke, his voice was cracked. “I felt so alone, Jinyoung,” he winced. “I thought I was the only one. I thought it was just me.”

“You weren’t,” Jinyoung urged, hands rushing to hold his face. Holding it closer to his own. Desperate to feel his skin, to look in his eyes. “It was never just you. I was there all along. I was there from the moment I saw you in the doorway of my office.”

Mark’s face teetered. His gnawed at his lip. His eyes were red and wet and holding back. He didn’t speak for a long moment. He pulled his face away slowly. “I’m not gonna act like that wasn’t what I’ve been wanting to hear for so long.” He almost laughed. “God. I would have killed to hear you say that a few months ago,” he wiped his face. “But it doesn’t change what happened,” his voice sounded too sure. “I told myself I wouldn’t go through that again.”

Jinyoung felt a rush of panic. His teeth chattered. “And you won’t have to.”

Mark stood up, rushing to anger. “I can’t trust you,” his voice like fire. “I know you, Jinyoung. I know that when you speak you believe every word you say. I know you’re being honest in the moment.” He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “But you change your mind.”

“No,” Jinyoung wiped his face, harshly. He rocked forward. Trying to reach out. Trying to grab any inch of Mark he could. “That’s not me anymore. I know what I want. I know I want you.”

Mark’s breaths slowed. He calmed himself. He looked into the mirror, wiping his eyes. Straightening his jacket. “I’m moving to America. That’s the fresh start that I need,” he paused, looking at himself like he was rehearsing a script. Like every word being repeated like a mantra he was trying to believe. “And I don’t see you being a part of that.”

“Mark,” his chest felt flayed. Bare and vulnerable. “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t keep this from happening again.”

Mark turned towards him swiftly. Coming back to anger. Always coming back to anger. “Don’t you dare act like I’m the one who kept this from happening,” he swallowed, pointing his finger into Jinyoung’s face. “I gave you every chance. Too many chances.”

“I know,” Jinyoung clutched at his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Mark stood back. Took another deep breath. Took Jinyoung in.

Jinyoung could only imagine the way he looked. Shirtless and shaking and sobbing. Over exposed and over stimulated.

Mark stood strong with that beautiful fury that only he could possess. Like a zealous sun god. Equal parts life-giving and destructive.

“Goodbye, Jinyoung,” he said. His voice trembling slightly. He walked out of Jinyoung’s hotel room. And when Jinyoung heard the door slam, he couldn’t fathom what had just happened. But he knew in his soul that he deserved it.


	6. Horizon

If Jinyoung had known it would be the last time, he wouldn’t have gone to sleep. He would have stayed up with Mark the whole night. Watched the sunrise over Lake Michigan from their balcony. Hugged him tight from behind and memorized the skin from his shoulder to his ear.

He would have moved slower, savoring every small moment. He would have kissed him more. Kissed him everywhere. He would have spent more time telling him how unbelievably beautiful he was. More time desperately trying to describe his vividness in words.

But he hadn’t known and so all that he was left with were the ‘what ifs’ of the night before.

“You look even worse today,” his mentor said when she saw him.

“I look worse, but I can work. Don’t worry,” he tried to smile but it was weak. His eyes ached from crying. His head was pounding. But he knew he couldn’t sit in his hotel room all day playing back the scenes in his head. He knew, however painful it was, that he needed to keep moving.

“Are you sure?” she looked concerned. “There’s no shame in taking another day to recover.”

“No, no,” he waved her away. “Let’s get going.”

After he’d flown back to London, that’s how his next two months felt. Like a push. Like he was trying to busy himself by working too hard and too fast. He took on more projects than he could reasonably handle. Even his mentor was concerned about him stretching himself, but he pushed back. He told her he could handle it. That he wanted to see them out.

But there were moments when he was alone in his dorm. Nothing to occupy his mind. And his memories would play back. The look on Mark’s face. The way he looked at himself in the mirror. Certain. So, so certain. How could he have been so certain? When there were such strong feelings there for both of them?

Somewhere in the push, there was a day, when he was sitting behind his desk. A cubicle in the center of the department offices. His cohort sitting around him. Talking about their weekends. He was passively listening, not participating, when he got a notification on his computer.

When he saw it, his heart raced. His mouth dried.

_Tuan, Mark. Subject: (no subject)_

Jinyoung rushed to open it. The email was blank except for an attachment. He feverishly downloaded it. But when he did, he didn’t immediately know what it was. A PDF a mile long. Hundreds of pages that seemed to go on and on. Paragraphs of English stacked together.

His eyes scanned furiously. Trying desperately to comprehend but between the rush of his chest and the magnitude of the text, it was taking considerable effort to focus himself. But he read more closely, slowly realizing what it was. It was his thesis. Fully translated into English.

He sat back in his chair. Feeling heavy and weak.

He didn’t know what to do at first. He didn’t know whether to respond. To thank Mark. Or to think this could possibly mean anything more. But surely, it couldn’t. Mark had been so firm with his words. So clear. There was no way that this meant anything more.

It was the final few days of the program when his mentor called him into her office.

“You’ve worked really hard these past few months,” she nodded. “I hope you know how much your dedication was appreciated.”

“I’m glad to have had the opportunity. If anything, it just reaffirmed that I want to get my Ph. D. and start teaching,” he smiled.

“Well,” she shrugged. “It looks like I’m going to have an opening next year for a new Ph. D. candidate.” She looked up at him. “You would be welcome to it, if it’s what you wanted.”

Jinyoung felt himself smile. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. But you’ve come to put up with me better than most have so I figure you may enjoy it here.”

“I,” Jinyoung started. Trying to piece together his thoughts. “I know I would. But if you don’t mind, I want to hear back from the other schools I am applying to before I give you any confirmation.”

“Of course,” she nodded. “Take your time. I’ll look forward to hearing from you at the start of spring.”

\---

Jinyoung returned to Seoul in mid-October. In the midst of the minuscule autumn that was always too quickly dashed into an unending winter. It was midday when he entered the apartment, dropping his bags on the floor unceremoniously. He saw the way everything looked the same. The scattering of sheet music and textbooks. The secondhand furniture mismatched and cluttered, but oddly cozy. The only thing that was different was the tint of changing leaves through the window making the space feel warmer than it had in the summer glare.

Youngjae came out of his room, pulling a shirt on over his head. “Hey,” he rushed to say. “You’re home early.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Is that any way you greet your best friend after three months abroad?”

Youngjae smiled. “Sorry, hyung,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I just woke up.”

Youngjae came up, wrapping his arms around him. Jinyoung melted into the first, much needed hug he had since Chicago. Something about it stimulating his mind. His nose. He filtered the scent of Youngjae in and out a couple times. Noticing that it was strong and unexplainably familiar but unmistakably not Youngjae. He pulled back, looking into his friend’s face with narrow eyes. “This isn’t your shirt.”

Youngjae’s face went panicked and his shoulders went stiff under Jinyoung’s touch.

“Jaebeom’s in your bed, isn’t he?” Jinyoung said, furrowing his brows.

Youngjae held a breath in for a moment before breaking. “Yeah,” he sighed with a shy smile.

Jinyoung smiled. “Jaebeom!” he shouted. “You can come out if you’re decent.”

There was a shuffling before the bedroom door opened again. Jaebeom’s hair was messy and his pajamas were ruffled. A hoodie clad his broad chest and Jinyoung knew he had nothing underneath it. He still looked strong and comforting and familiar but there was nothing else there.

“Hey,” Jaebeom said, as if they were running into each other on the street. “How was London?”

“It was good,” Jinyoung nodded. “How Youngjae’s mattress?”

He smiled and it was the first genuine smile he’d seen in a long time. His cheeks reddening slightly under the cover of his bangs. He looked down to his feet before looking up again. “It’s been good.”

“Youngjae,” Jinyoung snapped, turning back to him. “Is he taking good care of you?”

Youngjae smiled, looking embarrassed. “Hyung,” he whined. “Of course, he is.”

“Good,” Jinyoung fell into the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “Cause as soon as he doesn’t, he’s going to have a big problem with me.”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes. “Listen,” he sighed. “I’m going to get ready and then get you both some groceries. I’ll cook you dinner tonight. Consider it your welcome home present.”

Jinyoung smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Jaebeom went back in the room to get ready and Youngjae sat down on the couch. Both of them stretching out so that their heads and feet reached the opposite ends. And it was like slipping back into the routine of their friendship.

“How was it?” Youngjae asked, leaning his head against his hand. “Really.”

Jinyoung didn’t speak for a moment. Biting his lips. Wondering where to even start. “I saw him.”

“You saw him?” Youngjae’s eyes look confused. “Mark? In London?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “In Chicago. I stopped there for a few days for a conference.”

Youngjae’s face was full of questions. “So,” he started. “You just saw him on the street?”

“He was touring law schools,” Jinyoung folding his hands together. Trying to calm himself at the memory. Looking back, it still felt out of body. Like a dream.

“What happened?”

“We had drinks. And a date. And dinner,” he scratched the back of his neck. “And we slept together.”

“And?”

Jinyoung huffed. “And he walked out the next morning.”

Youngjae blinked. His face contorting. “Why?”

Jinyoung had thought about this question for two months on end. It had kept him awake. Kept his eyes wet. Kept his heart palpitating. But the answer hadn’t changed. “He can’t forgive me,” Jinyoung struggled to meet his eyes.

“But you guys went out. Hell, he spent the night with you,” Youngjae scoffed. “Surely, he still has some kind of feelings for you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jinyoung shook his head. “He had already made up his mind before he saw me. There was nothing I could have done. I was too late.”

Youngjae sighed. “I’m so sorry, hyung” he grabbed Jinyoung’s hand.

“He moved to America,” a sad smile pulling up the side of his mouth before it dropped again. “He wanted to start his next chapter without me.”

Youngjae sighed. “Well, at least you don’t have to worry about running into him anymore.”

Jinyoung didn’t say anything. Unsure if that was a blessing or a curse.

Youngjae was kind enough to change the subject. “Well. You’re home. What’s the plan?”

Jinyoung pivoted his thoughts. Something he’d gotten too good at the past two months. “I’m going to work on my applications. Get them submitted by the end of the year. Hopefully hear back in February.”

“Trust me, I hate to be that guy,” Youngjae put a hand to his chest. “But you need a job, Jinyoung,” Youngjae said. “Rent won’t pay itself anymore.”

“I know,” Jinyoung nodded. “I need to work on that still.”

“Why don’t you reach out to your department and see if there are any openings?”

Jinyoung nodded. “I’m meeting with my thesis advisor this week to ask for a letter of recommendation. I’ll ask him then.”

\---

Jinyoung went to meet with his advisor. He told him he was applying for Ph.D. programs. He asked for recommendation letters. He told him he was looking for a job. His advisor didn’t have any leads for him. Told him to keep checking the university job site. Told him something would pop up eventually.

Jinyoung lazily started scrolling through job sites from the safety of Youngjae’s couch. Wondering if a few months of using his master’s degree to make iced americanos would even be worth it.

Two days later, he got an email from his advisor. He told him something came up. His wife was a lawyer and their firm needed someone to teach business English. He knew he had just gotten back from London and asked if he would be interested. Jinyoung wasn’t keen on the idea. But he knew he was wasting his time waiting for something else to come along. So, a few days later, he found himself, in a suit, sitting across from the CEO of the law firm talking about his degree and his experience in London and his hopes to do his Ph.D. abroad. The office they sat in was spacious and modern. The windows behind his desk overlooked the river and Mt. Bukhansan and the clear blue skies that sat above everything. The man looked almost too young to be so high ranking. His suit perfectly tailored and his smile poisonous and artificial. The perfect picture of a suave yet cold lawyer.

“Well, you seem like a bright young man,” the man nodded. “I’ll be honest with you. We are really rushing to fill the space. We have a big deal coming through that’s going to require a lot of correspondence with our partner firm in America. We are really shifting our focus towards international commerce. Our previous English teacher ended up eloping with some businessman from Hong Kong and leaving on short notice. So, we’re feeling pressured to find someone as soon as possible.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jinyoung nodded. “If it helps, I also know a businessman from Hong Kong, but I definitely won’t be eloping with him anytime soon.”

They shared a laugh. “Well,” he shrugged, opening his desk and taking out a sheet. “You seem well studied. You have a great connection to someone at the company. We desperately need someone. I see no reason to not offer it to you.” He gave the paper a once over before placing it on the desk and sliding it towards Jinyoung. “If you could just sign this offer letter, we could start onboarding you next week.”

Jinyoung leaned over the desk, looking over the form. Rushing through the business speak. His eyes stopped. He looked up. “I’m sorry,” he said. “There must be a mistake here.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I think there is a misprint in the compensation for this position.” He flipped the paper around, pointing at the number. “Maybe an additional zero was added.”

“No,” he shook his head. “That’s how much you’d be making.”

Jinyoung tried to keep from audibly gulping. “Oh, my apologies” he nodded. He didn’t read any more, signing the bottom and handing it back.

“Great,” the man smiled. “It was very nice to meet you, Jinyoung. We’ll see you on Monday?”

“Sounds great,” he smiled, bowing. “Thank you, sir.”

Jinyoung took the elevator back down to the lobby. The doors opened up and Jinyoung walked out. He was looking at his phone, about to call Youngjae and tell him the news, when he bumped someone’s shoulder. “Pardon me,” he reached out, stilling them.

And he looked up at them. Looking upon Mark’s face.

He felt the wave crashing in his chest. Mark was wearing a smart suit. His hair was brushed away from his face. There was a hefty stack of files tucked under his arm.

They looked at each other for a moment. Unable to formulate the words.

“What are you doing here?” Jinyoung breathed out. Wondering how many times they were going to be reliving this interaction. Looking upon his face was hard. He was surprised he was even doing it. He had almost thought he would never see him again. That fate had been too kind for too long but was growing weary of throwing them back together. But apparently not.

Mark didn’t look as surprised as last time. But then again, they were in Seoul. Where Mark wasn’t supposed to be anymore. So, if anything, he was the one who was out of place.

He still had that look in his eyes. The same one as Chicago. Of unjustified assurance. Of decisiveness. “I have an internship at this firm,” he said, almost sounding guilty.

“But,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I thought you would have moved by now.”

Mark sighed. “I was about to,” his lips moving into a thin line. “But I got offered this position and I figured it was best to take it while I work on my applications.”

Jinyoung didn’t know what to say. He never imagined he would be returning to a Seoul with Mark still in it. And knowing that they were in the same place felt like it changed things. Though if Chicago had proven anything, it was that no matter where they were, there were a few things that couldn’t be changed. Jinyoung wanted Mark. Mark didn’t want Jinyoung.

“What are you doing here?” Mark cocked his head.

Jinyoung swallowed hard. He considered playing it off. Like he was just in the neighborhood. But they had known each other too long and too well to lie anymore. “They just offered me a position teaching English.”

Mark’s shoulders tightened, “You’re joking.”

“I’m not,” Jinyoung looked away. Feeling hot. Unable to meet his eyes. “But,” he sighed. “I’m going to keep looking for something else.”

“Why?” Mark shook his head, almost getting irritated.

“You were here first,” he shrugged. “I’m not going to intrude on your life like that. Not after everything.”

Mark was quiet for a moment. A question flashed in his eyes for a second, but he didn’t speak it. Jinyoung wanted to chase it. To know what it was that gave him that moment of unsureness.

Jinyoung had a feeling that he wasn’t meeting Mark’s expectation of how he would respond. Did Mark think he would relish in the opportunity to move in on his life? Make a place there for himself just to terrorize him? He felt the need to explain himself despite Mark holding his tongue. “This is obviously important for your career. Important enough that you didn’t move yet.”

Mark didn’t speak, rebalancing the files under his arm. He looked like he was thinking. His face tight. He sighed, raggedly. “Look. Can I just call you? Maybe tomorrow? I just want a chance to think about it.”

Jinyoung almost laughed. “Mark. There’s nothing to think about. I can find something else. I have a Master’s. I’m a native speaker. There’s other positions out there for me.”

“How much are they paying you?” Mark blurted out. Too blunt.

Jinyoung took a moment. His tongue working against the inside of his cheek. “A lot,” he replied, simply. “But it wouldn’t matter how much they were paying. I wouldn’t put you in that position.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. “Just let me think about it,” he said. He looked back to the elevator. “I got to get back.” He turned, starting to walk away before calling out over his shoulder. “And unblock my number, if you haven’t already.”

\---

“Are you okay?” Youngjae said the next day as Jinyoung lay on the couch reading.

Jinyoung adjusted himself. “Yeah,” he sat up. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You’ve been moving around like a spooked cat all day.”

“I’m just waiting for a phone call.”

“That interview you had yesterday?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he nodded.

“I’m sure you got it,” Youngjae smiled. “A mile-long resume, drama actor looks, you’re kinda the whole package.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung agreed. “But should I take it?”

Youngjae narrowed his eyes. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Jinyoung was about to answer but then his phone rang. He jumped at the sound. “I got to take this,” he said, grabbing it. He treaded over to his room, shutting the door too firmly.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hey,” he heard Mark’s voice, warm and clear.

“Hey,” trying to sound relaxed as he paced. “How’s it going?”

“Well,” Mark sighed. “I’ve been thinking about it. About if you should take the position.”

“Mhmm,” Jinyoung cracked his fingers.

“And I think you should.”

Jinyoung took a breath. He shook his head. “How can you-“

“Listen,” Mark stopped him. “It’s just a few months. We will be in separate departments. We don’t need to interact. Let’s just be adults about this.”

Jinyoung was quiet, unsure.

“We both need this for different reasons,” Mark justified. “And we both know how hard it is to find good jobs in this city.”

Jinyoung sighed. He wanted to protest since his mind was running through all the possible ways this could go wrong. But Mark’s voice was so firm. Like he knew exactly how this would go. He felt himself surrendering. “I promise to give you your space. We don’t have to act like friends or anything,” he said the words he knew he needed to, but they still stung in his mouth. “Just promise me, if you change your mind, or if something happens-”

“Like what?” Mark questioned.

Jinyoung took a moment. Feeling the heavy weight on his chest. “Like Chicago.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Mark said firmly.

Jinyoung wasn’t sure if it was the words or the tone that hurt more. “Just promise me that if things change, you’ll tell me. Cause I won’t question it. I’ll leave if it’s inconveniencing you.”

Even through the phone, Jinyoung could hear the smile playing against Mark’s lips when he spoke, “Okay,” he agreed. “I promise.”

\---

Jinyoung started working the next week. The job wasn’t hard. Just draining. Working with businessmen individually and in small groups on their introductions, vocabulary, and helping them read through paperwork. He thought that teaching disinterested college students was rough but arrogant lawyers were even worse.

Corporate culture was different from university culture. Everyone was on edge at all times. Frantic typing, overly positive phone calls, passive aggressive jabs at younger workers. It reminded Jinyoung what he hated about this life and why he had put in so much effort to distance himself from it. So instead, he sought refuge in his classroom most of the time. A slightly bigger meeting space with a desk for him and some chairs. He was lucky to have a window that overlooked the towering office buildings of central Gangnam. The muck of the cheap bars and barbeque places too far below to see.

Jinyoung would see Mark, sure. But only for brief glimpses. Because that’s all it felt like he ever got. He’d see the fluff of his hair or the curve of his neck above his desk as he glimpsed over the pen of younger workers on his way in. He would see him walking past his classroom on his way to a meeting, a flash of svelte and smart in the window. He would see him eating lunch in the break room, making wide circles around him.

Jinyoung followed through on his promise. He gave Mark space. He didn’t approach him. Didn’t let his eyes linger on him for too long. But even so, it was hard not to feel his presence even if they were walls away from each other. A little heat between his shoulder blades at all times. The feeling of being watched that made everything feel out of body, despite there being no eyes on him.

It must have been at least a month of “Hello,” “Pleased to meet you,” “Thank you for organizing this meeting,” before Jinyoung was given an English document that wasn’t clear to him. He tried to read between the lines, conveying what he could from it. Something about intellectual property law in Korea versus America. But the over the top legal jargon didn’t add up for him.

“Did someone from our company write this?” Jinyoung asked the employee he was going through it with.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “The intern in our writing department.”

Jinyoung sighed. Weighing his options. Knowing that there was only one straight path between two points. “Let me talk to him and get back to you about this.”

Jinyoung went looking for Mark’s desk, finding him seated at his computer. He was typing away while listening to music. His eyes intent and focused.

“Hey,” Jinyoung rested against the edge of his space. Safely on the outskirts. As if he was waiting to be invited in. “Do you have a minute?”

Mark looked up at him, pulling headphones out of his ears. “Yeah,” he blinked, turning towards him. “What’s up?”

“I’m just struggling with this one,” Jinyoung handed him the document. “They said you wrote it.”

Mark looked it over. “Ah,” he snapped. “Here.” He combed through a stack of files on his desk carefully, flipping and scanning until he pulled out a packet. “I’ve been translating everything in this case into English since we are transferring it over to the American offices.”

Jinyoung took the packet, seeing the Korean version.

“If you ever need the originals, just let me know. I can make copies for you,” Mark smiled but there was nothing in it other than just being pleasant.

Logically, Jinyoung knew that Mark was just being thoughtful. Like a good coworker should be. But emotionally, he was struggling not to think of it as an invitation. An opportunity for them to see more of each other.

“Can I keep this one?” he held it up.

“It’s all yours,” Mark gave a nod.

“Thanks,” he smiled back. “Have a good day.”

“You too, Jinyoung,” he put his headphones back in, turning back around.

Jinyoung turned back. Thinking maybe that wasn’t so bad. Maybe this coworker thing would work out better than their prior attempts at peace had.

\---

Jinyoung promised himself he wouldn’t exploit this new opportunity to see Mark. And it wasn’t till a few weeks later that he reached out again. This time, he decided to email him first to ask for more help. He figured Mark could properly ignore him if he wanted to. Or could just attach the files he needed and not feel the need to exchange pleasantries. But later that day, he was tutoring an employee when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Jinyoung called.

Mark opened the door. “Hey,” he said. “I got you the transcripts of those other documents for you.” He held out a folder of papers.

“Oh,” Jinyoung got up, crossing towards him and taking the folder. “Thank you for doing that.”

“No problem,” Mark smiled. “Let me know if there are any other ones you need.”

“Sure thing, Mark,” he nodded, watching him see his way out.

He turned back towards his lesson. “Where were we?”

“Do you know him?” the employee asked, pointing towards the door.

“Who?” Jinyoung played dumb, feeling a rush of nerves.

“The intern,” he narrowed his eyes. “Why do you speak so casually with him?”

Jinyoung blinked. It wasn’t that he had been actively trying to withhold this information, but he also hadn’t wanted anyone to know that they knew each other. Because then if he had to quantify him and Mark’s relationship to the world, then he would also have to be honest with himself about what they were and what they are no longer. Which was something he never wanted to think about. “We went to the same school,” he nodded. “We vaguely knew each other.”

“The kid is a machine. He makes our writers look like amateurs.”

Jinyoung let out a small laugh, “Really?”

“Really. It’s embarrassing,” the man scoffed. “The worst part is that he has no tact when making the rest of us look bad.”

Jinyoung didn’t like the judgement in the man’s voice. Something that had sounded so complimentary fueling displaced resentment towards Mark. He shrugged. “He’s American. They don’t really think to do that. They shine regardless of who they might outshine.”

The man smacked his lips. “All I’m saying is that he better not be so brazen to the wrong person,” he twisted his face. “Or he’ll be asking for trouble.”

Jinyoung didn’t know what he meant by that. It sounded threatening. But he didn’t feel comfortable talking about this. Especially when he was, unbeknownst to them, aligned so fervently with Mark. So, he waved it away, continuing on with the lesson.

\---

Days later, Jinyoung was staying late. The short winter days turning too quickly to night. He was working by just the desk lamp in his classroom. The lights of the office buildings outside illuminating his window.

“You’re still here?” a voice in his doorway said.

His eyes snaked up to see Mark. His jacket had been discarded and his work shirt was rolled up onto his forearms. A far cry from the skater boy that had leaned into his doorway a year ago. “Yeah,” he sighed, trying to catch himself from falling into his reverie. “Still a few more things to do.”

“Let me get you a coffee,” he said, unleaning himself.

“No,” Jinyoung waved him away. “It’s fine.”

“Yeah, I know it’s fine,” Mark rolled his eyes, leaving. He came back a few minutes later with a warm mug, placing it on his desk.

“Thanks,” Jinyoung smiled, reaching out to grab it. “Why are you still here?”

“Uh,” Mark didn’t answer quickly. “I’ve been working on this side project for the firm.”

“Something they gave you?”

“No,” he reasoned. “More like something I hope they’ll find helpful.” He readjusted himself against the doorway, freeing his hands to talk with them. “So, they are transferring all these files to their American office, right? And the only way they are trying to do it right now is one by one so it’s taking forever. So, to assist that process, I’m trying to develop a tool so they can migrate more at once and keep track of which ones have been transferred. And it will have toolkits and templates for certain types of documents and explaining the key differences in the laws and such.”

“Sounds ambitious,” Jinyoung raised his eyebrows. “And you’re just going to hand it off to them?”

“Well,” Mark shrugged. “I mean I’m just trying to come up with a solution that they can use long term. I’m hoping they appreciate it. That it gets me some recommendation letter or connection that I can use down the line. But who knows? They might think it’s excessive.”

“I think it sounds great,” Jinyoung looked up at him. “You’ve seen what I do. Research and teaching and such. But this is the first chance I’ve gotten to understand your career. It’s rather fascinating to see you so passionate about it.”

Mark looked back at him, a smile tugging at his lips. He sighed. Changing the subject. “How have you liked it so far?”

“What?”

Mark laughed. “The job.”

Jinyoung was glad to hear his laugh. He hadn’t heard it in months. “The good news is that I have savings for the first time in my life,” Jinyoung smiled. “That bad news is that I think I miss teaching Yugyeom. Which can’t be a good sign.”

Mark laughed, again. “I’ll let him know you said that.”

Jinyoung paused for a moment. “Do they still hate me?” he took a sip of the coffee. And it was bad, but it was Mark’s, so he loved it.

Mark’s smile dulled. He shook his head. “They didn’t ever hate you. I think they were just being protective over me.”

Jinyoung understood. “You’re lucky to have them.”

“Yeah,” Mark sighed. “I’ll miss them.”

They were silent for a moment. Remembering the clock they were working against. Time never on their side. “You could always come visit? Or maybe do this?” he pointed around him, indicating the firm. “Commute back and forth between both.”

“There’s a lot to think about,” Mark nodded.

Jinyoung looked into his pensive face, wishing he could be one of the contemplations tumbling through Mark’s mind. But his time had passed and he was deemed too capricious to be considered.

“Well,” Mark put his hands in his pockets. “I should be heading out for the day.”

“Hey, wait,” Jinyoung said as he was leaving. Watching him freeze and pull back. “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but I just wanted to thank you. For translating my thesis for me.”

“Oh,” Mark got nervous. He felt at his neck. “Don’t worry about. I had been working on it a few weeks before I saw you, so I just thought I would finish it.”

“You didn’t need to,” he shook his head. “And it’s made completing my applications a lot easier.”

Mark shrugged. “How many are you submitting?”

“Five,” he leaned back in his chair. “You?”

“Seven,” he smiled.

“Fuck,” Jinyoung laughed.

“Yeah,” Mark laughed as well.

“You have a top pick?”

“Yeah,” Mark looked down. “But I feel like if I say it out loud, I’ll curse myself.”

Jinyoung nodded. “Don’t tell me then,” he said, thinking that he probably shouldn’t know anyway. That it would probably haunt him to know too much about what Mark’s future looked like without him.

“I’m going to head home,” Mark sighed. “Are you going to the company dinner tomorrow night?”

“Do I really have a choice?” Jinyoung sighed.

“Not really,” Mark smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you,” Jinyoung watched as Mark went back down the hall.

\---

The following night was Jinyoung’s first company dinner. The partners took all the employees out drinking. This one had promised to be especially memorable because it came right before the holidays. But truthfully, Jinyoung couldn’t think of anything more abhorrent than hanging out with a bunch of drunk lawyers.

Partners wearing Santa hats were passing bottles of alcohol around while lazily singing a butchered version of Jingle Bells. Jinyoung stood in the corner, his beer in hand, trying to stop checking his watch every ten minutes to see when the higher ups would let them go home.

“Professor Park Jinyoung,” one of the employees shouted out with slurred mocking speech. “Come sit.”

“No,” he waved. “There’s no space for me. I’m fine here.”

“Nonsense,” he called back, looking around the long table for a spot.

“Mark and Jinyoung are friends,” another employee shouted out. “Have them sit together.”

“Really?” another coworker turned around, furrowing her brows.

Jinyoung waved his hands. “No, no,” he rushed to say. “We just went to the same school.”

Someone called from down the table. “Is that how your English got so good, Jinyoung? The foreigner gave you private lessons.”

The table erupted in drunken laughter.

Jinyoung’s eyes met Mark’s down the table. Mark rolled his eyes, irritated. “No,” Mark stopped them, rushing to annoyance. He narrowed his eyes at them. “His English is good cause he has a master’s degree in literature and he studied abroad in London. Most of you had English lessons from the age of five yet you still suck at it.”

“Woah,” a coworker laughed. “The American gangster is getting mad.”

The table laughed more. Jinyoung looked over to Mark, communicating with his eyes that he should just drop it.

“Jinyoung, sit with the gangster and tell him to stop being so serious,” they called out, motioning for the spot next to Mark.

Jinyoung sighed, taking the seat and glass of soju they offered him. He poured it into his beer and looked over to Mark. But the boy was already refilling his own glass and averting his eyes.

They didn’t speak until they had been released to go home, the majority of their coworkers and partners too drunk to walk without each other’s assistance. The employees dispersed, clinging to each other as they made their way to the main road to grab taxis.

Jinyoung held back, waiting for Mark to come out and stopping him. “I’m sorry,” Jinyoung said when Mark slowed to meet him. “I didn’t want them to know but one of them heard us talking and assumed.”

Mark looked up at him, the flashing lights of the bars dancing across his face. He no longer looked irritated, just tired. “It’s okay,” Mark shook his head. “It’s not a big deal.”

Without acknowledging it, they began to walk side by side towards the subway station. The night was cold and their breathes smoked out of their mouths as they held their shoulders too tight.

“What are you doing for the holidays?” Jinyoung stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Bam and I are going to visit Yugyeom’s family,” Mark nodded.

“Is your family missing you?”

“Yeah,” Mark smiled. “But I’m going to video chat them on Christmas and watch my niece open her gifts.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Let me know what she gets.”

“I will.”

They stopped outside the station exit. “I should be heading back this way,” Jinyoung beckoned. “I have to catch the train down south tomorrow morning.”

Mark’s licked his lips. His face looking open and friendly. “Do you need help? Going home?”

Jinyoung smiled. Thinking one of them must have had too much to drink. Either it was Mark to offer that or it was Jinyoung to not dissect it into infinitesimal meanings. “No,” he crinkled his brows. “I think I’m okay. Thank you though.”

Mark nodded. Looking back at him. His eyes smiling. “Have a good holiday, Jinyoung.”

“You too, Mark,” Jinyoung nodded before turning down the street.

\---

He spent the holidays with his family. They flooded him with questions. About how Jaebeom was doing. He updated them about him and Youngjae. They seemed happy to hear that he was happy. They asked about his new job and if he liked it. He told them it was fine, didn’t say anything about Mark. They asked about the schools he had applied to and what he hoped to hear.

“You’re dead set on leaving Korea?” his mom huffed over dinner. “Being so far away from your family will not be easy.”

“It won’t be much different than it is now. I can still visit for holidays. And maybe you guys can come visit me?”

“London is too far,” she waved her hand at him.

“Well, maybe I’ll get into another program and be closer,” he shrugged. “We’ll see who wants me in February.”

“I hope its someplace closer. And warmer,” his sister mused, hopeful.

And the rest of his family agreed.

He returned to Seoul. Enjoying his last few days of vacation tangled together with Youngjae and Jaebeom, binging web dramas on the couch. Trying not to think about returning to work the next week.

Waking up the first morning back and pulling on his suit was harder than it should have been. But the thought of Mark perched at his desk somehow kept him motivated enough to keep going. He kept showing up, kept drinking his coffee and wishing Mark had made it, he kept teaching his lessons, he kept double checking his application submissions a few dozen times. But it wasn’t until the morning of the last day of the year that Mark slid into his doorway again. “Hey,” he called. “Are you going out for New Year’s Eve tonight?”

Jinyoung looked up at him. His suit perfectly shaping around the long lines of his body. The morning light playing across his vivid eyes. “I’m not sure,” Jinyoung shrugged. “Haven’t really had time to think about it?”

“Well,” Mark coughed slightly. “Yugyeom, Bam, and I are going out. If you wanted to come.”

Jinyoung looked back at him, confused.

“We’re just going to the same bar we went to last year,” Mark tried to sound nonchalant. “It was fun, right?” As if he was coaxing the memory out of Jinyoung.

“It was,” Jinyoung said, warmly. Trying to not fall back into it. Or read too much into anything Mark was playing at.

“You could bring Youngjae, too,” Mark offered.

“Oh,” Jinyoung noted. “About that.” He hissed between his teeth. Unsure of how this would sound. “You know how Jaebeom and I broke up like…” he considered, “six months ago?”

Mark smiled down at his shoes before looking up. “I’m aware,” he nodded.

“Well,” Jinyoung knew there was no delicate way to word this. “Him and Youngjae are seeing each other.”

“Seeing each other?” Mark’s eyes got narrow. “Like they hang out?”

“Like boyfriends.”

Mark’s eyes went wide. He licked his lips before answering. “Really? What’s that like? With you living with him?”

Jinyoung shrugged, “Surprisingly good.”

“Well, then,” Mark blinked. “I guess he can come as well. If you are interested, that is.”

Jinyoung’s mouth hung open for a moment. “I’ll shoot you a text and let you know.”

Mark smiled. “Sounds good. See ya,” he raced out of his doorway and back down the hall.

\---

Jinyoung saw the hesitation on Youngjae and Jaebeom’s face when he proposed the idea that night. But after assuring them that they were welcome, that everything between Mark and him was purely platonic, they agreed. It was well beyond dark when the trio got to Itaewon, exiting the station and padding up to the bar. Through the open space, Jinyoung could see Mark at a table with Yugyeom and Bambam by his side. Their heads close as they chatted. He was about to step closer when he felt someone pulling him back.

He looked to see Youngjae, his eyes frantic and his mouth open. “Hyung. We can’t go in there,” he was frozen.

“Why not?” Jinyoung shook his head, pulling his arm away. He looked towards Jaebeom with a question in his eyes but only got a shrugged response.

“Mark’s friend. I… Aish,” he felt nervously for his hair. He looked back to Jaebeom, “Don’t judge me.” He turned back towards Jinyoung, “I almost hooked up with him.”

“You what?” Jinyoung’s ears perked in the winter chill.

Youngjae winced. “At the club. The night you disappeared on me.” He rolled his eyes, “which I’m sure, now, had something to do with Mark.”

Jinyoung thought back to that night. Remembering Youngjae and him sharing the table by the dance floor. Remembering craning his neck to see long legs and bright hair leaned up against the bar. Remembering urging Youngjae to talk to him. Realizing it had been Bambam all along.

“Oh my god,” Jinyoung gasped. “Wait. What do you mean you ‘almost’ hooked up with him?”

“Well,” he sighed, frustrated. “The reason I didn’t is sitting right next to him. And he’s the jealous type.”

Jinyoung’s eyes swerved inside towards their table, watching Yugyeom at Bam’s side. His hair tousled and his smile wide.

Jinyoung looked back to Youngjae whose eyes were wide and scared. He let out a ragged breath. “Look,” he said, putting his hands on Youngjae’s shoulders. “If you think that’s awkward, the love of my life is sitting over there and just invited me out for a night with him, my ex fiancé, and my best friend who he’s also dated. So, can we just look past the awkwardness of tonight for my sake?”

Jaebeom put an arm to the small of Youngjae’s back, speaking softly into his ear. “Come on,” he said. “Jinyoung needs us.”

Youngjae smacked his lips, annoyed. “Only for you, Jinyoung,” he said. He dragged his feet, begrudgingly, and the three of them walked back in. They weaved through the crowded tables towards the back where the other three were sitting. A collection of glasses already starting to pile on the table.

“Hey,” Jinyoung smiled as he approached.

“Hey,” Mark looked up to him, smiling. “You made it.”

“Of course,” Jinyoung held his gaze for a moment before looking over to the other two. “Hey guys,” he waved. “These are my friends, by the way. Youngjae and Jaebeom.”

The couples exchanged pleasantries. Only a slight tinge of awkwardness pulling at Youngjae’s face when Bam let out a “Oh, I remember you” that neither sounded awkward nor negative, but purely friendly. Even Yugyeom’s cheerful “me too” felt pleasant, which seemed to calm Youngjae’s forced smile.

“Good to see you, again, Youngjae,” Mark said, pulling the boy into a hug.

Youngjae’s face went a little surprised but accepted it, looking over to Jinyoung.

Mark pulled away, turning himself towards Jaebeom. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he offered his hand.

“You as well,” Jaebeom smiled, earnestly, before shaking it.

And there was a moment where Jinyoung was watching them and he realized he had never pictured this moment happening. It was wild that after so much unseen history the two of them shared, that they could just put it away and move forward. But Jinyoung thought that spoke volumes about the type of people they were. And Jinyoung admired it about both of them.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind,” Jinyoung said in Mark’s ear over the roar of the bar. “I have one more friend coming a little later.”

“The more the merrier,” Mark smiled. “Yugyeom,” he called. “Drinks, please.”

Yugyeom poured somaeks for the table, passing them out. They all sat down around the table. Drinking their first drinks down in one shot and letting Yugyeom pour them again.

“How have you been?” Bambam’s voice peaked Jinyoung’s ears and he felt himself trying to overhear the conversation.

“Good,” Youngjae said, his voice sounding a little too cheerful. “You know, school.”

“And you’re dating Jinyoung’s ex?” he asked a little too brazenly.

Youngjae let out a laugh. “Yeah,” he smacked his lips. “To be fair, he’s the one who encouraged us to get together.”

“Really?” Bambam sounded surprised. “Well,” he paused to drink. “You two look good together.”

Youngjae smiled. “Thanks,” he said. “I think we do too.”

Jinyoung felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned. Seeing Jackson’s bright face.

“Jackson,” Jinyoung smiled, standing up from his seat to hug him. “It’s been too long.”

“It has,” he nodded, pulling back. His face close and his voice warm. The boy’s hands reaching toward his face to touch it affectionately. “I heard you don’t see me for a few months and become this jet-set, high profile English teacher.”

Jinyoung laughed. “Honestly, whatever pays the bills,” he shrugged. “Oh, this is Mark,” he turned back towards the boy, motioning towards him. “Mark. This is Jackson. A longtime friend of ours.”

Mark reached out to shake his hand and Jackson pretended not to see it. “Mmm, pleasure,” he said, off-handedly. “Hey Jinyoung, I’m going to go sit with my best friend at the other end but let’s catch up tonight, okay?” his voice a little too loud so Mark could hear the disdain.

Jinyoung should have anticipated it but he didn’t. So, he just sighed. “Okay,” he nodded. He turned back to Mark whose face was edging on offended.

“Is he always like that or?” Mark pointed a finger towards Jackson as he boisterously greeted Jaebeom at the other side. It was clear he was making a scene just to exaggerate the coldness of his introduction with Mark.

“No, he’s not,” Jinyoung shook his head “I’m sorry. I think he’s still feeling a bit loyal to Jaebeom after everything.”

Mark smirked, rolling his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. “He should take it up with you, not me.”

“Just forget about him,” Jinyoung waved away. He propped his elbow up onto the table, letting his chin lean forward towards Mark. “Tell me about what your niece got for Christmas.”

The night was flying by and the drinks were flowing. The banter turned into drinking games as the volume of the bar got louder and louder. Youngjae’s loud laugh was piercing through the noise and his whole body falling against Jaebeom’s shoulder anytime there was a joke. Jackson was making gags and approaching foreigners to try and get a laugh from everyone. Yugyeom and Bambam kept getting up, standing too close to one another, and throwing around trendy dance moves anytime the bar played some American hip hop track that none of the others knew. And Mark was smiling wide and throwing back drinks like there was no tomorrow. Jinyoung felt on the periphery, slightly disassociated. Sipping his drinks slowly, quietly. Letting his eyes focus in and out. Watching all these people who had been a part of his life this past year coming together was surreal. The way it happens in dreams where everyone just fits together despite not ever meeting in the real world. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for each and every one of them.

Mark leaned closer into Jinyoung’s ear. “I don’t feel too good,” he said, screwing his eyes shut.

Jinyoung looked back at him, a tipsy smile pulling at his lips. “I wonder why,” Jinyoung said, removing his drink from his hand and pouring him a glass of water. Mark rolled his eyes before clutching his middle and rocking forward, uncomfortable. Jinyoung tapped his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you some fresh air.”

Jinyoung took his hand, dragging him towards the door. “We’ll be right back,” he shouted towards the others, seeing how the group watched as they left. The same question playing on all their faces. But Jinyoung didn’t care. He knew there was no need to question it.

They stepped outside. Mark began walking, slipping out of Jinyoung’s hand and powering down a side street, a steep hill that was layered with uneven bricks.

“Where are you going?” Jinyoung called, watching him take off.

“Just walk with me,” Mark turned, walking backwards for a few steps before stumbling.

Jinyoung rushed forward to hold him, laughing as he hoisted him up with an arm around his shoulder and let their body heat meld together.

They walked up the large hill, people lining the streets. Cheers loud and messy and clouds of alcohol laced breath rising into the night sky. Their bodies swayed as their centers of gravity teetered, making zig-zagged lines up the street. Holding laughs within their chests and wearing smiles that seemed engraved on their faces.

As they kept walking, the crowds thinned until Jinyoung and Mark were the only ones ascending the hill. After a few minutes, they came upon a mosque at the top of the hill. The looming white towers were lit up bright. Green neon Arabic across the front. The front steps lead to intricate blue and white mosaics that covered the front of the building. Mark pulled away from his side, running up the steps with ease, skipping every other.

“What is this?” Jinyoung looked up at the building, admiring the way it towered over the city.

“Last year, the view of the fireworks was good,” Mark looked back, smiling. “But this one is better.”

Jinyoung hiked up the stairs, turning to see the view of the night sky. Lotte Tower shining in front of them and the river snaking between districts. He felt like he was on top of a cloud.

“Come on,” Mark checked his watch. He sat down on the steps, patting the spot next to him. “It’s almost time.”

“You tricked me,” Jinyoung laughed. “You pretended to be sick just to show me this.”

Mark shrugged his shoulders, still smiling. Jinyoung looked at him. He wasn’t dressed up like he was for work. He looked comfortable in his hoodie and parka. But still shaken from the cold. His shoulders caved in together, the tip of his nose slightly red, his teeth visible, cutting through the night light.

Jinyoung sat down next to him, close enough to feel the press of Mark’s side and the way his body heat radiated through his coat.

“I’m going to miss this city,” Mark said, looking out over the view.

“It’s going to miss you more,” Jinyoung couldn’t take his eyes off of him. “Thanks for inviting me out tonight.”

“I’m glad you came,” Mark smiled, looking back to him. His eyes were warm and blurry. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Jinyoung felt dizzy under his stare. All the alcohol going to his head. “You know I’ll always be wherever you want me to be,” he smiled at him. Too much honesty in the answer.

Mark’s smile stretched. Too wide. Too bright. He brought his face too close. “I remember last New Year’s Eve,” he murmured. “I fell into you in that bar and it was like I knew that’s how I would spend my year. Falling for you.”

Jinyoung’s heart swelled. “Don’t say things like that,” he shook his head. His voice coming out soft and almost whimpering. “You’ll kill me if you say things like that.”

The energy ran in a straight line from Mark to Jinyoung, igniting the space between them. As it always did. But with their proximity and their walls lowered and the air cold and crisp, it made it all that much easier to-

Mark leaned in, pressing his lips onto Jinyoung’s. He could feel the tilt of his head and his shoulders close. The boy’s hands moving for his neck. Feeling warm and soft despite the chill.

Distantly, he could hear the sound of fireworks, popping off into the night sky. But he didn’t care. He just cared about the way Mark’s hands felt against his skin and the way his lips moved against his, dancing their familiar dance even though it had been many months.

But despite how right it felt, Jinyoung felt himself pulling back. He put a hand to Mark’s chest. “Mark, stop,” he whispered, smelling the soju on Mark’s breath and feeling the slide of his hands around his neck. Trying to tamper down the thought of where else he wanted Mark’s hands.

Mark opened his eyes, his reactions a little slow. “What?” he whined.

“Don’t do this,” Jinyoung sighed. “You don’t want this.”

“What I want is for you to come home with me tonight,” Mark smirked, bringing his face closer.

Jinyoung pulled back farther, loosening Mark’s hands and dropping them in his lap. He looked into his eyes. They were bright and wild and Jinyoung remembered the same ones from before everything got so difficult between them. When they were just two strangers feeling for each other in the dark spaces of their lives.

“Mark,” he shook his head. “No.”

Mark furrowed his brows. “I don’t like this,” he sulked. “I don’t like not having you.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung sighed. “You’re drunk.”

“So what?” Mark looked back at him. His eyes dark and desperate and wanting.

Jinyoung stood up, feeling himself sobering too quickly. “Come on,” he beckoned, stuffing his hands into his coat. “We’re going back.”

Mark scowled and the multicolor fireworks lit his face in greens and pinks and reds.

“I’ll leave you here,” Jinyoung threatened, walking his way down the steps and casting a sarcastic look over his shoulder.

“No, you won’t,” Mark grumbled.

Jinyoung smirked. “You’re right. But it’s cold and we both could use another drink to forget about this.”

Mark didn’t move for a moment, still pouting. He smacked his lips before letting out a frustrated groan. He got up, trotting down the steps, past Jinyoung, and starting back down the hill.

Jinyoung looked up for a moment, at the fireworks and the views and the openness of the night sky overhead. He could still feel Mark’s kiss warm on his lips. He pressed them into a thin line, as if to seal the feeling, but when he released them, it was just as fleeting as Mark was. He sighed, turning back and jogging up to meet Mark and follow him wordlessly back to the bar.

\---

When Jinyoung woke up the next morning, his head was aching. He stumbled out into the living room and saw Jaebeom on the couch reading with a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Morning,” Jaebeom called, too cheerfully. “Happy New Year.”

“Is Youngjae still breathing?” Jinyoung went into the kitchen, finding where they kept the pain relievers.

“Last time I checked,” Jaebeom closed his book. “How are you feeling?”

“Don’t ask,” Jinyoung filled a glass with water and sat down on the couch, swallowing two pills with one chug.

“What happened last night?” Jaebeom sipped his coffee. “You and Mark disappeared for a long time.”

Jinyoung sighed. Remembering. Mark’s words and his warmth and his lips. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah?” Jaebeom leaned forward, placing his book on the coffee table. “Tell me about it.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes, leaning back and massaging his temples. He groaned, looking back to Jaebeom’s open face, knowing there was no need to soften the truth. “He kissed me,” Jinyoung said earnestly. “Told me to go home with him.”

Jaebeom’s eyes lit up with question. “Why didn’t you?”

Jinyoung sighed. “Because I know it was just because he was drunk. That’s not what he really wants. He told me. Multiple times. He doesn’t see a future with me. And that’s not going to be any easier if we keep hooking up and then fighting and saying goodbye. So, I’m just giving him the space he asked for.”

“That’s very mature of you,” Jaebeom laughed.

“I’m just trying to be considerate.”

Jaebeom thought for a moment, smiling to himself before speaking. “It felt so weird seeing the both of you together,” his thumbnail going between his teeth.

“It must have been awkward,” Jinyoung winced, sitting back on the couch. “I’m sorry if it was.”

Jaebeom shook his head. “It wasn’t,” he said. “It was just… I don’t know. It surprised me.”

“Why is that?” Jinyoung tilted his head.

“I mean. I know you love him. I know you’ve loved him for a long time. You made that clear to me through your actions when we were still together,” Jaebeom raised an eyebrow. “But I guess because of how things went down, I had a lot of judgements about him in my head. I thought you two were just lusting for each other. That he was just some pretty boy and nothing more,” Jaebeom smiled warmly as if remembering something sweet. “But now, after meeting him, I can see that he’s not. And when I saw both of you together.” He tried to find the words. “I just felt like everyone at that table was exchanging glances. Like we were all making sure that we were mutually seeing the energy that radiates between you both.”

Jinyoung huffed out a laugh. “It’s him, not me,” Jinyoung shook his head. “He’s the who shines.”

“No,” Jaebeom said, his voice sure. “It’s both of you.”

Jinyoung looked down, fighting a smile. Knowing that none of this was news, but he was glad he wasn’t the only one feeling it.

“Listen, Jinyoung,” he spoke again. “I’m not saying you should go bang down his door and propose to him. But I’ve known you longer than anyone and I know that the way you feel for him isn’t comparable to anything else I’ve seen you feel. And I think you should fight for that.”

Jinyoung considered his words, sighing hard. “But what’s going to happen? Even if he did choose to be with me. He is building his career. His future. And I’m not going to have him change everything and build his life around me instead.”

“So, you’re just going to live with his memory as your only company forever?”

Jinyoung sighed, “If that’s what he wants. If that’s what’s best for him.”

“God, you’re unrecognizable,” Jaebeom laughed, putting his feet on the coffee table. “Where is the Jinyoung from a year ago?”

“What do you mean?” Jinyoung laughed, twirling his glass of water in his hands.

“You’re just so different now,” Jaebeom smiled wide. “He’s changed you. For the better.”

“He’s changed everything. For everyone,” Jinyoung said simply.

And they both were silent, knowing it was true.

\---

Jinyoung was back to work a few days later. He didn’t know whether he should give Mark some more space or try and approach him. So he settled on acting like nothing had happened. Though he couldn’t stop himself from replaying the moment over and over again in his mind. He found himself having to refocus countless times and asking people to repeat themselves because he wasn’t listening.

It was the end of the day when he looked up and saw Mark standing in the doorway. His jacket in hand and his backpack over his shoulder. His mouth small and his shoulders drawn inward.

“Hey,” Jinyoung said, putting down what he was working on. He stood up, going to lean against the front of his desk. He could see the way Mark’s face was pushing and pulling. And he would have done anything to make it stop. “Did you make it home okay the other night?” he asked, warm and smooth.

“Yeah,” Mark exhaled. “Look,” his hand went to the nape of his neck and he struggled to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry about New Year’s Eve.”

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung reasoned. “We were drunk.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m just really embarrassed.”

Jinyoung smiled. “We’ve known each other too long to get embarrassed.”

“Maybe so,” Mark licked his lips. “Just know that I…” his voice trailed off.

“Mark,” Jinyoung smiled. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say it.” He shrugged. “I enjoyed it too. But I knew it didn’t mean anything. That’s why I stopped you.”

Mark looked back up at him. His mouth small. “Right,” he said, letting out a breath. “I appreciate it. You’ve been really understanding.”

“I just want what’s best for you,” Jinyoung crossed his arms. “Even if it’s not me.”

Mark was silent for a long while and Jinyoung wasn’t sure if he would speak again. They stewed in the silence and Mark’s eyes blinked between an infinite number of thoughts. “I’m going to head out,” he finally said. “Have a good night.”

“You, too,” Jinyoung sighed, watching him leave again, wondering if he said the wrong thing.

\---

Over the next few weeks, they fell back into their old routine. Not acting too friendly. Just Jinyoung reaching out when he needed to. Mark being helpful and kind but nothing more. And it was like New Year’s hadn’t happened.

They were well into February before there was another company dinner. The same bar. The same faces. The same frenzied drunkenness permeating the repressed office workers.

Jinyoung spotted Mark on the periphery. His glass only half empty and his smile too sincere in this setting. His eyes too warm.

Jinyoung slipped towards him, trying not to make it obvious when he spoke. “What are you so happy about?” he asked.

Mark shrugged, speaking out of the side of his mouth discreetly. “I got some good news today.”

“Care to share?”

“Not quite yet,” Mark looked downward.

“Well, whatever it is,” Jinyoung smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

Mark didn’t meet his eyes. His shoulders tightened and his face went stale. The shift was too fast to be harmless. “Quit being so nice,” he said. “You make it harder when you’re nice.”

Jinyoung detected the sudden irritation in his voice. “You want me to be an asshole then?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Just saying,” Mark offered. “In an effort to stay consistent.”

Jinyoung tried to bring down the volume of his voice, getting slightly closer to Mark to speak in his ear. “Did I say the wrong thing?”

“I don’t know,” he seemed to be trying to put distance between himself and the conversation. “It’s just hard when you’re being so friendly all the time. And then something like New Year’s Eve happens and you suddenly are the sensible one. Suddenly know what’s best for me.”

It had been a long day already and Jinyoung’s defenses weren’t primed. So he felt himself shifting into offense. “You’re the one who said Chicago wouldn’t happen again,” Jinyoung shrugged. “It could have happened that night if I hadn’t stopped it.”

Mark’s face tightened. “There’s that cockiness I had been missing.”

Jinyoung sighed hard. “Are we really going to fight about loving each other?”

Mark crossed his arms, turning to look at him for the first time. “It’s easier than having to say goodbye again.”

Jinyoung looked back at him. Feeling the spread of heat on the back of his neck. “Then don’t say goodbye again,” his voice firm.

Mark stared. His eyes a mix of fury and gloom. His mouth twisting.

Jinyoung sighed. “Forget it,” he said. “Forget I said that.” He felt the venom coating his veins. “I’m going to head home. If anyone asks, I had some more work to get done.”

Mark nodded. Not saying anything. Just holding his ground and finishing his glass as Jinyoung snaked his way back through the tables and out of the bar.

\---

When Jinyoung came in the next day, he didn’t see the tuff of dark brown hair at Mark’s desk. He suspected he must be in a meeting. Or maybe he was sick. Maybe last night had been too much for him. He went around during lunch and saw it was still empty. He considered sending him a text but after last night, he didn’t want to be overbearing. Especially after their argument.

He got a call on his office phone in the early afternoon. “Jinyoung,” he answered, unsure of who it could be.

“Park Jinyoung. This is the reception desk. Could you come down to the CEO’s office?” a woman on the phone said cheerfully.

“The CEO?” Jinyoung blinked. “Do you know what the meeting is about?”

“He only said that wants to see you,” she responded.

Jinyoung’s stomach lurched. He had seen the man a handful of times since his interview but never shared more than a quick, passing bow with him. He knew his reputation in the office for being powerful, rich, and cutthroat. But that being said, he didn’t know what they could possibly have to talk about. “I’ll be there in a minute,” Jinyoung thought back, trying to think what he could have done wrong.

When he went down to the reception desk, the secretary showed him into the CEO’s office. It looked the same as it did when he interviewed except for the blanket of white snow on Mt. Bukhansan. The man was leaned against the side of his desk, but they weren’t alone. There were about five other men there. Jinyoung recognized them from company dinners as partners. They fell silent when Jinyoung entered the room, their eyes looking him over before darting away.

“Park Jinyoung,” the CEO said, his voice edging on patronizing already. “Have a seat.”

Jinyoung sank down in one of the chairs. “You wanted to see me, sir?” His eyes flicked over to the partners before returning to his.

“Yes,” he cleared his throat. “We had some news for you. And we just wanted to be sure that you heard it from us first,” he rounded his desk, sitting down.

Jinyoung looked from the other men to the CEO. Unable to anticipate what they could say next.

The CEO took a deep breath before speaking. “We wanted to let you know that we fired our intern, Mark Tuan,” he threaded his fingers together against the desk.

“What?” Jinyoung sat forward in his seat.

“We know you were friends from school. But we have a lot of employees who have appreciated your tutoring and benefitted from your skillset over the past few months. We didn’t want this decision of ours to impact your position here.”

Jinyoung gulped. His mind moving a million miles an hour. “Sir. I think you’re mistaken. Mark and I were not friends. We only loosely knew each other.”

“Oh, great. Then we expect that there will be no problem then?” His smile grew wide. And something about was making Jinyoung feel nauseous.

He didn’t give him a moment to answer.

“He left these,” the boss said, opening his desk drawer and tossing keys and a wallet across the table. “If you want to return them to him. I know you weren’t friends but, I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

Jinyoung stared at them. Unable to piece together what was happening. He reached out, grabbing them. “Yes, sir.”

“Great,” he sat back. “Looks like we are done here then. You may see yourself out.”

Jinyoung immediately knew something wasn’t right. Something more than just Mark getting fired. He walked quickly back to his classroom, glad he didn’t have anyone scheduled for the rest of the afternoon.

He paced. He held the keys and wallet in his hands. How would Mark have possibly left these? He hadn’t been in all morning. Did he leave them last night then? What happened to him last night?

Jinyoung’s mind flashed back. He remembered Mark’s crossed arms, his tight face, the way his eyes followed him as he left.

He picked up his cell phone, dialing Mark’s number quickly.

It rang so many times that Jinyoung was trying to think of what to tell his voicemail. “Hello?” Mark’s voice finally spoke. It was quiet and thick.

“Hey,” Jinyoung rushed to say. His skin buzzed with nerves. “The CEO just called me into his office and told me you were fired?”

He heard the gulp in Mark’s throat. “Yeah,” he said, breathy.

“What happened?” Jinyoung questioned.

Mark didn’t answer quickly. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, I have your keys and your wallet,” he thought for a moment. “How did you get into your building last night without them?”

“I didn’t,” Mark sighed. “I haven’t gone home yet.”

Jinyoung looked at his watch, seeing that it was already well into the afternoon. “Where are you?”

“Jinyoung, it’s fine,” Mark said, though his voice sounded anything but fine.

“Tell me where you are,” Jinyoung’s voice came out more distressed than he intended.

Mark sighed. He didn’t speak for a long moment. “I’ll drop you my location.”

Jinyoung hung up, feeling the blood rush in his ears. He looked out his window until his phone got the address. He got up, grabbing his coat. He left the building, not caring about the eyes that were watching him. He got a taxi, riding it a few stations away.

When Jinyoung arrived, Mark was hauled up in the corner of a fast food restaurant. He had the hood of his parka pulled over his head.

“What happened?” Jinyoung sat across from him. “What’s going on?”

“I was foolish,” Mark shook his head. His eyes were looking out the window, unable to meet Jinyoung’s.

“What do you mean?”

“I trusted the wrong people,” his voice sounded thick with tears.

“Mark,” Jinyoung said firmly. “Look at me.” He reached out, taking the boy’s chin in his hand and angling it towards him. Watching it catch the light.

Mark’s face wasn’t the same. Jinyoung could see now in the light. The dotting of blood against his lip where it had split. The purpling hue around his eye. The scrapes against his cheekbone.

His stomach dropped. “Mark,” Jinyoung looked upon him in horror. “What did they do to you?”

Mark didn’t say anything this time. He just looked back. His eyes red with tears. Looking uncomfortable under Jinyoung’s stare.

“Come on,” Jinyoung said, getting up.

He watched Mark struggle out of the booth, wincing as he tried to stand. Jinyoung reached out, steadying him with a shoulder. They walked, slowly, back to the main road. Jinyoung hailed a taxi, helping Mark into the backseat before getting in the other side. He reached out, lacing their fingers together, furiously rubbing his thumb against Mark’s skin. Stuck between trying to soothe but being overcome with his own unchecked emotions. He could feel the fury growing in the pit of his stomach. Alongside sadness. Alongside something else.

When they arrived, Jinyoung helped Mark up to his apartment, walking him immediately to the bathroom and sitting him down on the toilet seat. He pulled back his hood, illuminating his face fully in the dim light that was shining from the small bathroom window. Jinyoung took in the damage. A deep crease between his brows. Mark was still a bit swollen, his eyes still heavy and wet. Jinyoung seethed out a breath, opening the cabinet, grabbing rubbing alcohol. He emptied some onto tissue, pressing it to Mark’s lip.

The boy hissed and his tears sprung farther forward, looming over his cheeks but clinging still.

“I know,” Jinyoung soothed. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Mark whispered out, his throat rough. “It’s my fault.”

Jinyoung wiped the alcohol across his cheek. His eyes were mirroring Mark’s, growing increasingly wet and hurt and scared. “Tell me.”

Mark took a deep breath. “One of the guys in the legal advising team came to me and said he heard about my project. He acted like it was revolutionary. Set up a meeting so that I could present it to the team. God, I should have known. They all acted like they loved it. Like they were so impressed with what I had done. Kept praising me.”

He swallowed, collecting himself. “And then last night, as I was leaving, about four or five of them stopped me outside. They told me it was all a set up. Just to watch me whore myself out and laugh at me. They knew I’d take the chance to steal the spotlight. They were sick of me trying to show them up. One of them got in my face. He reeked of alcohol. He hit me. And then all of them just started going for me. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t fight back. And they took my wallet and my keys and just left me there.”

Jinyoung’s tears were streaking down his cheek now. He looked into Mark’s face, unable to put it together. “Why didn’t you call me? Or Yugyeom? Or Bam?” he choked out. “We could have helped you.”

Mark shook his head. “I fell for it. I deserved it.”

Jinyoung raised a hand, raking Mark’s hair away from his face. Seeing the devastation in the boy’s eyes. He sighed at the sight. “We should call the police.”

“No,” Mark said sternly. Everything about him rushing to rage. “Foreign intern against a team of Korean lawyers. How do you see that playing out?”

Jinyoung rubbed his face harshly. Knowing he was right. Feeling powerless. “Come on,” he sighed. “Let’s get you in bed. You need to rest.”

Jinyoung helped him to the bedroom. He sat him down on the bed. He took off his parka and his suit jacket. He knelt down between his knees and unbuttoned his dress shirt, noticing the spot of blood on the collar. With every button he could see more of Mark’s torso and how it bloomed with purple stains like spilled ink across his skin. “Jesus,” he murmured. “You need to see a doctor.”

Mark shook his head. “I broke two ribs doing martial arts when I was in middle school. These ones are just bruises.”

Jinyoung wasn’t comforted by this but he didn’t respond. He pushed Mark’s shirt off his shoulders before going into his drawers to grab one of his own and hoist it over the boy’s head. He felt his shoulders, the cool, clean cotton feeling soft against his skin.

“Just lay down and rest,” Jinyoung helped him down, pulling the covers over him. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

\---

“Hyung!” Youngjae called when he came in the door a few hours later. Jaebeom trailing behind him. He was holding a stack of envelopes in his hand. “You have mail!”

Jinyoung stood up from the couch in a hurry. He shushed him, raising his hands and lowering them. “Youngjae,” he whispered. “Can you be quiet for once in your life?”

Youngjae and Jaebeom looked at each other. “What’s going on?”

Jinyoung sighed. Unsure how to start. He combed his hands through his hair. “Mark got hurt.”

“What do you mean?” Jaebeom rushed to say. His face full of concern.

Jinyoung swallowed. “He was attacked by some of the guys at work after the company dinner last night.”

Youngjae’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung crossed his arms. “He’s in pretty bad shape. But I brought him here and he’s resting now.”

“What can we do?” Jaebeom rushed to ask. “How can we help?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jinyoung waved his hands. “I’m taking care of him.”

Youngjae turned, grabbing Jaebeom’s hand. “We’ll make dinner,” Youngjae said, looking to Jaebeom. “He is going to need his strength.”

Jaebeom nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “We’ll get started on it.” They dropped their things and got to work, being careful not to make too much noise.

A little while later, Jinyoung shook Mark awake. “Hey,” he whispered. “Let’s get up for a bit.”

Mark rolled over, wincing at the shift in pressure. His eyes opened and he looked up at Jinyoung. Still full of hurt. Still full of sadness.

Without thinking, Jinyoung reached up, moving his hair out of his face and smoothing against his cheek. “We made you some dinner.”

“Who’s we?” Mark murmured, reaching up to touch his hand.

“Youngjae and Jaebeom mostly. I watched,” he tried to joke. “Come on.”

Jinyoung helped him into the living room, bringing him to the coffee table where Youngjae and Jaebeom were setting the last dishes out. They stopped, looking up at Mark. Seeing his face and the way he clutched his core. Their eyes were wide, unable to speak.

Mark forced a smile. “Don’t look so shocked,” he tried to joke. “It’s just makeup.”

Youngjae and Jaebeom’s faces broke, like they were getting permission to smile softly. They sat down and started to portion out their food.

Jinyoung sat Mark down and poured him some soup, some rice, pushing it towards him.

“Thanks, Jinyoung,” he murmured, picking up his spoon and greedily scooping up the soup.

They were all quiet for a few minutes. Only the sounds of them eating filling the space.

“How is it?” Jaebeom asked.

“Really good,” Mark nodded. “Thank you so much.”

“Mark,” Youngjae reached out, touching his hand. “Please stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” Mark smiled shyly. “I don’t deserve the kindness you’ve all shown me.”

“Of course, you do,” Jaebeom said, firmly. “Here have some more.”

After dinner, Jinyoung gave Mark pajamas. Made sure he had everything he needed. Pillows, blankets, a glass of water by the bed, his phone charging. He stood in the doorway of his room. “Sleep here tonight,” Jinyoung urged, beckoning towards his bed.

“Okay,” Mark nodded, sitting himself down in the bed.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Mark looked up at him, licking his lips. “Okay,” he nodded.

He looked upon Mark in his bed. His bruised skin almost iridescent in the low light. His broken spirit showing too strong in his bright eyes. He was still so beautiful. “I’ll be out here,” he pointed behind him. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to wake me up. You don’t even have to get up. Just call me. Okay? I’ll have my phone next to me.”

The boy looked back with blurry eyes, nodding but not saying anything.

Jinyoung fell asleep on the couch. In his dream, he was sitting on a seaside cliff. The wind whipping through his clothes and the sound of crashing waves echoing through his ears. He looked to his side and saw Mark beside him. All long lines and worried eyes. His porcelain shoulders showing through his white tank top and his legs long and exposed in his shorts. His hair gleaming lighter in the brightness of the sun. His eyes were squinted at the coastline, his mouth small.

Jinyoung gestured towards the sea, his hand sweeping, displaying the view. “It’s yours,” he told Mark. “Take it.”

Mark shook his head. Restless. “It’s never been mine.”

Jinyoung felt himself getting heated. “Yes, it has,” his voice got louder, more desperate. “Just take it. Please.”

Mark swallowed. He looked over, his eyes afraid.

Jinyoung’s dream started to evaporate as he felt himself being shaken away. He tried to keep reaching for it, but it seemed to dissipate to nothingness. He opened his eyes, seeing the darkness of the apartment. Not aware of how much time had passed since he fell asleep. He blinked, trying to adjust.

Mark was knelt next to the couch, resting his head onto his arms. His eyes open and sad.

“What is it?” Jinyoung stirred, looking down at him. “Are you okay?”

Mark’s mouth got small. His eyes were watering. “Can you lay with me?”

“What?” Jinyoung rubbed his eyes.

“Please,” Mark said, his voice thick. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Jinyoung looked at him. The shine of his eyes in the light of the streetlamps. The shadow of bruises against his face. He nodded. “Come on,” he peeled his blanket off and grabbed Mark’s hand.

He led them back to his room. Mark laid down, facing the wall.

Jinyoung laid next to him, pulling the heavy covers over them.

Mark was quiet for a moment. Still. But then Jinyoung could hear it. His breaths stifled and shuddered. His shoulders quaking.

“Come here,” Jinyoung pulled at his shoulder, turning him towards him. He pulled him close, the long line of their bodies fitting together. Mark’s head fell into the crook of his neck. His tears saturated his skin. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, soothing him. “I promise it’s going to be okay.”

And Jinyoung didn’t make the same mistake twice. He stayed awake for a long time. Until Mark’s shoulders had stilled and he wasn’t crying anymore. Until he had drifted off to sleep. Feeling the way his skin felt and smelling his scent. And there was nothing sexual about it. He just knew that his time with Mark was fleeting and he knew he had to try and remember all of it.

\---

Mark was still asleep when Jinyoung woke up to the sunlight streaming in. He looked at his clock. It was later than he wanted it to be. He got up, removing himself from Mark’s warm side and sliding out of bed. He dressed in his work suit, eyeing himself in the mirror and seeing the reflection of Mark’s sleeping face in his bed. His face finally still, though still bruised. Thinking distantly that this is how he always wanted it to be.

He got into office mid-morning, no one noticing when he slipped in later than usual. He made his way to his classroom. He combed through his desk, packing away the few things that were of value to him.

He was walking back out, snaking his way through the long hallway when he saw the clear doors of the conference room. Inside, the partners sat around the long table. At its head, sat the CEO. Sitting back and wearing a careless look across his face. He felt the rush of anger under his skin, traveling up his neck and down his shoulders.

He pushed through the door and watched as all the eyes turned towards him. Wide and questioning.

Jinyoung’s eyes were focused on the CEO that sat across the room. “I went and gave Mark his things,” Jinyoung called to him.

“Did you?” he raised his eyebrows. Feigning interest.

“You’re sick, you know that?” Jinyoung bit out. He looked to the room, pointing his finger to them. “All of you.”

“Jinyoung,” the CEO licked his lips. “We have a certain way of doing things in this country. Mark couldn’t be respectful of that.”

“Bullshit,” he huffed. “I’m sure you knew from the moment you hired him. You knew he was smart. That he was young. That he was a foreigner. Which made him that much easier to exploit.” He felt his temper consuming him. “And I know exactly what you’ll do. You’ll just continue on using the documents he wrote. Start using the system he created. You all will take credit for it.”

They were silent. Looking back at him with cautious eyes.

Jinyoung seethed, “I knew when I took this job that all of you were dull, but I never thought you’d be so cruel. As if you’re upholding any laws but the ones that are convenient to you.”

The CEO fiddled his fingers together. “Jinyoung. Are you done?” he said, checking his watch. “Should I call security or will you see yourself out?”

His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room. “Find yourself another English teacher.”

He walked out, slamming the conference room door. And as he left the office, he could feel the multitude of eyes on him. And he knew they had heard every word.

\---

When Jinyoung got home, he didn’t expect to see Mark and Jaebeom sitting in the living room. Jaebeom leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms against his knees. His face serious.

“Jaebeom,” he greeted. “How’s it going?” He took off his shoes at the door.

Jaebeom looked a little frazzled. He stood up. “Sorry,” he called. “Picking something up that I had left here. I was just on my way out.”

“It’s okay. You can stay,” Jinyoung offered.

“No, no,” Jaebeom waved him away. “I got what I came for. I should be heading back. Let Youngjae know I’ll call him later.”

He left and Jinyoung couldn’t help but feel a certain tension in the room. But he didn’t pause to think about it too much. Refocusing his attention back on Mark. He rounded the couch, sitting beside him. He looked upon his face. The very edges of the purple were just starting to blend into greens and yellows. The scrape on his cheek was scabbing.

“Hardly a full day in the office.” Mark remarked. His eyes noticeably less hard than they had been the night before. His light not as clouded.

Jinyoung didn’t beat around the bush. “I quit.”

Mark looked back at him. His face leaning between surprise and something else. He licked his lips before speaking. “You didn’t have to do that,” he shook his head.

Jinyoung loosened the tie around his neck, taking it off and casting it towards his room. “Of course, I did. I couldn’t keep going there every day, knowing what they did to you.”

Mark was quiet for a moment. “Thank you,” he said, softly.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Jinyoung said, he took off his jacket and laid it over the edge of the couch. “You’d do the same for me.”

Mark swallowed, looking down to Jinyoung’s chest. “What are you going to do for a job?”

He sighed. “I’ll worry about that later,” he put a hand to Mark’s knee. “Right now, I just want to focus on getting you better.”

“Jinyoung. I’m fine,” Mark brushed it off.

The rejection hurt more than it should have. But navigating when Mark wanted to act like more than friends and when he didn’t wasn’t easy. He cleared his mind. “Mark. I know you’re strong enough to handle this on your own,” he said. “But I don’t want you to have to. I want to be there for you.”

Mark didn’t speak for a long moment. He rubbed his face. “You’re not making this easy,” he breathed.

“Stop saying that,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I hate it when you say that. As if you want me to be cruel.”

Mark averted his eyes, picking at nothing on Jinyoung’s sweatpants that he was still wearing.

“Mark. Talk to me,” Jinyoung tried to relax his tone but inside he was brewing with a hundred questions.

Mark twisted his face. When he spoke, his throat was thick. “I’m feeling pretty lost.”

“About the firm?” he asked. “I can help you find another job. Though maybe we should wait till your face heals before you go on any interviews.”

“No,” Mark shook his head.

“Then what?”

“You.” Mark said, definitively. Resetting his shoulders, a nervous energy seeming to run between his shoulder blades.

“Me?” Jinyoung was taken aback.

Mark bit his lip. “You’ve been… so amazing to me,” he looked up at him. “If you would have told me a few months ago that all this would happen and that you’d be taking care of me like this, I would have laughed in your face.” He almost smiled but it was obscured by unease. “But working with you these past few months, it’s just a new feeling, being prioritized.”

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung said, earnestly. “It’s what I should have been doing from the start. It just took you walking out on me to realize it.”

Mark looked away, seeming to consider his words for a long time. “Look,” he finally let out a ragged breath. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I thought I could do this. I thought if I kept my sights set on this future. That I could move past whatever happened between us.” He paused, “but I’m not so sure I can do that anymore. It’s getting harder and harder to see a future without you. Even if that means sacrificing everything.”

And in some ways, it was everything Jinyoung wanted to hear but he couldn’t help but isolate the tone. Like Mark felt defeated by his feelings. Like he was surrendering. And that rung truer than the words themselves. “I don’t want that,” Jinyoung said firmly. “I don’t want you to change everything for me. If you do that, it will be no different than before. It will be convenient for me, but a sacrifice for you.”

“I know,” Mark rushed to say, getting irritated. Not with Jinyoung this time, just with the gravity of the conversation. “I’m just,” he sighed, his eyes visibly wetting. When he spoke, it was scratchy and hushed. “I’m so tired of saying goodbye to you. I really don’t want to have to do it again.”

Jinyoung swallowed. He felt the desire to reach out and hold his hand or his face. To wipe the tears from his eyes. To help him breath. But he restrained himself. “We know we have something special. We have for a long time,” he held in a breath. “But having something special isn’t enough anymore. We need something permanent. Or nothing at all.”

Mark combed his hands through his hair. “And I can’t guarantee that,” he trembled. “I’m going off to Stanford in the fall. I gave them my deposit and everything.”

“Stanford?” Jinyoung felt his shoulders go immediately stiff, unable to move. His ears started to burn. He figured he must have misheard him. “That was your top choice? You’re going to Stanford?”

Mark nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “They gave me another scholarship,” he sniffed. “My family knows and everything.”

Jinyoung’s chest felt like it was collapsing. He screwed his face trying to keep the tears from springing up. He fled to his room. He pushed open the door, storming over to the desk and rummaging through the papers that had scattered over its surface.

“What are you doing?” Mark questioned, getting up. Stepping closer to his doorway.

Jinyoung pulled out an envelope, coming back out and handing it to Mark. He knit his hands together. He held them against his chest, feeling the thrashing of his heart.

Mark looked down at the envelope in his hands. He turned it over. Seeing the Stanford seal on it. He looked up into Jinyoung’s eyes, full of questions.

“It came yesterday,” Jinyoung ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t opened it.”

Mark’s hands seemed to shake. He stared down at the envelope before turning it back over, slowly ripping it open. Jinyoung couldn’t tell if he was moving in slow motion or if this moment just seemed to stretch on forever. Mark unfolded the letter. Reading it to himself. Looking long and hard at it. His eyes blinking. His mouth small.

Jinyoung wanted to reach out, snatch it from Mark’s hands. Read whatever it said. Whatever fate was sealed away in it.

Mark’s eyes wouldn’t leave the text.

Jinyoung felt the tears springing forward again. “Mark,” he begged. “Just tell me. Please, just tell me.”

Mark swallowed. “You got in.”

Jinyoung felt the rush of nerves, frazzled and frayed. His mouth tingled. His eyes wouldn’t focus. He moved, going to sit down again.

“Was…” Mark turned towards him, holding the letter still. “Was this your top choice?”

“It was between there and London,” Jinyoung rushed to explain. “I didn’t know much about Stanford’s program,” he shook his head. “But then I met one of the professors in Chicago. I sent her my thesis. She was impressed with my work. She’s been doing research in a similar area.”

“So,” Mark’s eyes were too light and too hazy. “What does this mean?”

The question hung in the air like a sack of bricks. Neither of them had the answer. So they waited there, looking into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Their faces racing through infinite meanings.

“I,” Mark spoke first. His voice barely audible over the stirring of their thoughts. “I need to go.”

“What? Where?” Jinyoung blinked.

“I just,” Mark dropped the letter onto the coffee table, backing away slowly. “I need to think about this. I wasn’t prepared for this.”

Jinyoung rushed to stand, moving towards him but seeing him move away with every step. “Please,” he rushed. “What if you don’t come back?”

Mark breathed out. “I will,” he nodded, before collecting a few things and walking out the door.

\---

Jinyoung had sat there on the couch for a long while. Letting the apartment fall silent. Letting his heart rate slow down. Picking up the letter and reading it over and over again until it started to make sense.

He got up and went to his desk. He opened the rest of the letters. He had gotten in to four out of the five he applied to. He didn’t know what to feel. He had never expected this compound of emotions.

He sat all day and all night in his room. Somewhere between blank and pensive. Mind desperately playing out every possible scenario. The good and the bad. It wasn’t until late that night that Youngjae came in his room. “Why haven’t I seen you or Mark?” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Guess why?” Jinyoung sat up.

“Did you guys fight?”

“Something akin to that,” Jinyoung nodded.

“Why?” Youngjae furrowed his brows.

“We both got into Stanford.”

“I don’t understand,” he shook his head. “Where’s the problem?”

“We didn’t know we had both applied,” he let out a shaky breath. “He already accepted.”

“But doesn’t this mean that you can accept to? That you can both go together?” Youngjae made it sound so easy.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “What if he doesn’t want me to take it? What if he wants me to choose London instead? What if-”

“What if, what if, what if,” Youngjae sighed, rolling his eyes. He sat down on the edge of his bed. “Hyung,” he said. “Do you love him?”

Jinyoung held his breath. “You know the answer.”

Youngjae shook his head. “Then tell him. Fight for him. Like it’s the last chance you’ll get.”

Jinyoung swallowed.

Youngjae got up. “I’m ordering food. You’re eating it.”

It wasn’t till the next day. In the living room, he could hear Youngjae on the piano, working through a piece and singing the melody alongside. The rise and fall of his voice clear and loud. Jinyoung’s phone buzzed and he picked it up. He read the notification. Seeing it was from Mark, he sat up, furiously opening it.

The grey box of an image popped up, waiting to load. Jinyoung held his breath. When it finally appeared, Jinyoung had to tap to see it. He zoomed in. It was a statue. Like a tower. The surface old and weathered. Numbers written in Hanja increased up the side.

Jinyoung didn’t recognize it at first but then he picked up on the background and the marble walls and the shine of light and he remembered. Thinking back to field trips and history lessons and Jaebeom’s goofy smile at his side. The National Museum. Another message came through.

_Come find me._

Jinyoung swallowed, closing his phone. He rushed to get dressed. He ran to the bathroom to throw some water on his face and through his hair. He came back into the living room, sliding his sneakers on.

Youngjae looked up from his piano. “Where are you going?”

“It’s him,” Jinyoung said, throwing on his coat.

“Don’t you dare come back here without him,” Youngjae called, turning back towards his sheet music.

Jinyoung smiled, running out the door.

When he got to the museum, it was oddly quiet. No school groups in sight. No booming voices of docents. Just stillness. The grand hall was layers of warm marble that arched over Jinyoung’s head like a regal palace. Everything screaming opulence and stateliness. The sunlight streaming in through the glass ceiling. The way the sounds echoed off the walls and floor.

He made his way towards the end. His eyes searching for the statue. He finally found it, positioned off center. He saw the back of Mark’s head. The boy was facing towards it, sitting on a bench. His hair and the slope of his neck shining in the light.

Jinyoung put a hand against his own chest. He took a deep breath in. He let it out through his mouth. He felt himself still. He approached.

And it was like Mark could feel him there because he spoke out. “You know, almost five years I’ve lived in Korea and this is my first time here.”

“It’s been forever since I’ve been here,” Jinyoung sat next to him. “We used to come here for school. Do scavenger hunts and try to find all the turtles and tigers. Jaebeom would always let me win.”

He could see Mark smile in his periphery.

“Do you remember this?” he beckoned his head towards the statue.

“I think I do,” Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. “It was for the water, right?”

Mark nodded. “To measure the depth.”

Jinyoung looked over to him. The light framed him. Glinting off his cheekbones. “Hey,” Jinyoung said, his voice warm.

“Hey,” Mark looked to him. His face between stillness and something else.

Jinyoung felt his stomach stir. “I can talk first?” he asked.

Mark nodded back.

Jinyoung reached out and grabbed his hand. Mark didn’t pull away, just let his eyes fall on where their skin met before looking back up to his face. “A year and a half ago I fell in love with you. You were smart and kind and you made me feel like everything was new.” He shook his head, “But I had never imagined I would meet you. I had never imagined I would feel that way for anyone. And I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know how special it was, so I took it for granted and I stood on that bridge and told you it was over and I didn’t even try to imagine how I was hurting you.”

He sighed. “But even when you were gone, you were still everywhere. You were in everything I did. Because of you, I looked at the world differently. I finally got clarity and confidence to end things with Jaebeom. I approached my friendships and my career and myself with this newfound passion that you had given me.

“Then I saw you in Chicago,” he smiled, remembering Mark’s dazed eyes and dark hair. “Everything was still there. All the feelings. But I still didn’t get it. I didn’t fully understand what I did. What I kept doing. How selfish I was being. How I still acted entitled and greedy and deserving of something that was never mine to begin with.

“When you left me in that hotel room, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that again. I wouldn’t take you for granted. I wouldn’t ask you to bend over backwards for me. And not in an effort to win you back.” He paused. “Truthfully, I didn’t see that as an option. I just knew I had spent too long holding you back from the rest of your life. And you were changing. You were going from this haunted kid who didn’t know where he was going, to this man who was coming to terms with who he was and what he wanted from his life. And I wasn’t going to ask you to stop evolving for me.”

Jinyoung licked his lips, feeling his eyes wet though he smiled. “But this world keeps throwing us together. In ways I couldn’t have imagined. And when we started this, there was nothing but obstacles. Nothing but excuses for why we couldn’t possibly work. But now there are none. Now there’s no reason to not give us a real, fighting chance.”

Mark’s eyes were fixated on Jinyoung’s.

Jinyoung licked his lips. “I love you. And I always will. And I’d count every drop in the ocean to not have to say goodbye again.”

The air in Jinyoung lungs felt clear. A weight off his chest and mind. All the things he’d been thinking were floating through the air and warming the space between them.

Mark seemed to let the words sink in. He sighed. “When you were at work yesterday, Jaebeom came over. He wanted to talk to me. Just me. About you. He had a lot to say. About everything.” He raised his eyebrows. “But I just can’t stop thinking about this one thing. I feel like I’ve been driving myself crazy playing it back.”

He looked up to the sculpture, a smile pulling at his lips. He looked back down before letting his eyes meet Jinyoung’s again. His face bright and open. “He said you never change. That ever since he’d met you, you’d been cunning and proud and stubborn. But you weren’t all bad. You were thoughtful when you wanted to be, more brilliant than anyone could see, enigmatic and captivating without ever knowing it. But he’d never seen you change. Never imagined you could.” He took a deep breath. “Until you met me.”

He squeezed Jinyoung’s hand before reaching and pulling something out of his pocket. “Here,” he handed him a paper that was folded in thirds.

“What is this?” Jinyoung took it in his hands.

“Just open it,” Mark shrugged.

Jinyoung unfolded it, reading it slowly to himself. They were plane tickets. To Los Angeles. He looked back up to him. Questioning.

Mark blinked, his lips tugging at a smile. The whites of his teeth showing through in flashes. “I figured it would be nice to spend some time with my family before we start school.”

“We?”

The smile bloomed. “I’m going to tell you how this is going to go,” he took Jinyoung’s hand again. His voice close, quiet. Like they were the only ones in the whole museum. In the whole world. “We are going to go to Stanford. We’re going to get a place together. We are going to fuck a lot. Probably fight a bit too. But we’ll love each other anyway. And we’ll support each other no matter what happens. And we won’t know what our futures look like. But we’ve tried to go without each other and that doesn’t work. It’ll never work.” He let out a breath. “We know what we both want. We want something permanent.”

Jinyoung heart swelled and his throat thickened. He rushed, dropping Mark’s hand and reaching out. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him forward. He hugged him close, hearing him make a surprised sound.

Jinyoung’s eyes spilled over his face onto Mark’s shoulder. His heart quaked in his chest. He felt like he couldn’t contain the emotion.

“Hey,” Mark laughed. “Come on,” he whispered in his ear. “I love you,” he said softly and Jinyoung realized it was the first time he had said it. And Mark kept repeating it in his ear and each time it sounded better and better. Not just because it was what he had wanted to hear for so long. But because it wasn’t goodbye. It was the opposite.

He pulled back, his hands moving to Mark’s face and bringing it close. He kissed him, long and hard. His tears smudging onto Mark’s cheeks. He rested their foreheads together. He tried to catch his breath, feeling Mark’s hands against his sides, soothing him. “Can we,” he swallowed his tears, screwing his face. “Can I take you home? Please.”

Mark didn’t stop smiling. He nodded against his skin. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. And Jinyoung believed him.

\---

September came quicker than they thought. After months of making iced americanos at the corner café for meager wages, fucking in the backroom after close. After months of sleepovers and take away dinners, kissing sauce off the corners of each other’s mouths. After packing up their lives into boxes, shipping them off to America. After tearful, soju laced goodbyes with Jaebeom and Youngjae and Yugyeom and Bambam and Jackson in some cheap noraebang. After Mark traveling down to Jinhae to meet his family, Jinyoung’s sister saying she’s never seen him so happy.

After they flew to Los Angeles. Sharing earbuds and taking pictures out the window of the long stretches of blue ocean, before falling asleep on each other’s shoulders. After Mark’s family picked them up to a chorus of welcome home’s and tight hugs. After hot summer days out by the pool, chasing little girl around before jumping in after her.

And somehow, they ended up back at the beach house. Alone and watching the sun travel down towards the horizon.

“How does it feel to be back?” Mark said, wrapping the blanket tighter around them. Their chests were bare and sensitive from a day in the sun. The touch of their skin leaving them buzzing.

“Like I never truly left,” Jinyoung smiled, watching the waves crash against the shoreline. Nuzzling deeper into Mark’s side. Smelling the scent of cinnamon candy that still managed to make his head spin.

“You crossed this whole ocean for me,” Mark whispered into his ear.

Jinyoung’s chest crashed like the waves on the shoreline. “You know why I did it, right?”

Mark smirked into his hair. “Why?”

Jinyoung pulled back, looking into his eyes. “So that no matter where you are, you can look out over the water and know how much I love you.”

Mark’s vivid eyes. His wide smile. His porcelain skin. Everything about him radiated in the golden light. “I love you,” the boy whispered. He leaned in, kissing him. The stick of the sea salt against his lips. The press of their bodies making Jinyoung’s skin rush. The grit of their sandy hands as they reached out to find each other.

Jinyoung got up, grabbing Mark’s hand. He intertwined their fingers and they walked together back over the beach to the wide-open doors of the bedroom. Jinyoung sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling Mark over him. The boy crawled up, straddling his lap and ducking down to kiss him.

It felt so different from the last time they had shared this bed together. There was no need to rush anymore. They had the rest of their lives.

Jinyoung’s hand slipped against his chest and back, feeling the smoothness. Every wide expanse, every contour, was still uncharted. Because while Mark was so open and direct, something about his fierceness made him unconquerable.

Mark licked into his mouth, smiling so wide behind the kiss that their teeth clicked together. His hands moving to his chest and pushing until he was flat against the bed. His hands went to Jinyoung’s wrists, pinning them above his head as he grinded against him.

Jinyoung whined, feeling the pressure building in his core. He arched up, pressing back.

Mark dipped down, kissing his chest, trailing a slow line downward until he reached the skin above his shorts. He ran his tongue against it, slow and deliberate. His fingertips running against the edge, barely hooked over the fabric.

Jinyoung huffed. “Don’t be a tease,” he smiled.

Mark laughed, his hands moving to unbutton his shorts. He pulled them off. He knelt between his legs. He rested his cheek against his thigh, teasing him. Jinyoung could feel his hot breath and how it made him impossibly hard.

“God,” he whimpered. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Mark smirked.

“You’re right,” he murmured and smoothed a hand down his face. He offered Mark the tip of his thumb which he took between his teeth, looking up at him. Eyes electric.

Mark let it slide from his lips as he edged forward wrapping a hand around Jinyoung and running his tongue over him slowly. Making Jinyoung’s hips rolls up, trying to get the friction he ached for.

Mark pressed his hips down, working his lips down and back up. His mouth slow and warm. His hand working in perfect motion.

Jinyoung struggled to watch, feeling everything. He could feel the way he picked up speed, deepening his motions until his mouth was taking him in fully before releasing him. His tongue teasing his slit on the upstroke.

Jinyoung reached down, sliding two fingers into Mark’s mouth alongside. He could feel the slick of his mouth as it coated. Unphased by the intrusion.

He took out the fingers, reaching further down at pressing into his own entrance. The combination of pressures feeling right. He slid a finger into himself, trying not to let his hips buck. Feeling the burning in his core.

He looked down again, seeing Mark in all his glory. Watching him pull off and giving his slit full attention like he loved it. Jinyoung let out a frustrated sigh and Mark continued, taking him in with more fervor now. And Jinyoung matched it with his fingers, working another one inside.

It seemed like no time at all before his toes curled and he finally released with a whine, coming hard into Mark’s mouth and feeling himself squeezing against his fingers as he removed them.

He looked down at Mark, seeing his cheeks full. Smiling at him. But before he could act, Mark jumped back on top of him, leaning him flat against the bed and bringing their faces close. He reached up and gripped Jinyoung’s chin. And without words, Jinyoung opened his mouth wide.

Mark opened his lips, letting the seed drip from his mouth in Jinyoung’s. Watching the pearlescent strings stretch between them. After a long moment, Mark leaned forward kissing him hard and letting the taste meld between their mouths.

“Mmm,” Jinyoung hummed, eating it out of his mouth. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“You’re not done yet,” Mark growled back.

Jinyoung whimpered, feeling his body thrum. “God, you’re gonna wreck me.”

Mark smirked. “That’s kind of the point.”

He grabbed Jinyoung’s hand, pulling him off the bed. With his other hand, he grabbed the lube off the bedside table that already been utilized that morning and the night before as well. Because there had been no way that they would take this opportunity for granted again.

Mark dragged him up against the wall of the bedroom, the bottle of lube going between his teeth. He squatted himself slightly and grabbed at Jinyoung’s thighs, sliding them on top of his own until he was holding Jinyoung steadily against the wall. He pressed his forearm against Jinyoung’s collarbones as he held the bottle between his teeth, squeezing it into his free hand. He discarded the bottle onto the floor. His hand dove underneath, feeling how Jinyoung was now perfectly spread so that he could work against his entrance.

He moaned as Mark slid one finger in easily. Both of them feeling how open he already was. He slid another in, massaging him wide. Mark watching his face as his breaths were short and high in his throat. Gritting his teeth against the sensitivity.

Mark pulled out his fingers out, knowing Jinyoung could handle him. He slicked himself with the excess, lining himself up, his tongue jutting out with focus. He thrusted into him, both of them releasing a frenzied breath. Jinyoung wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck. Mark’s hands dove under to hold his ass tightly. He held Jinyoung against the wall with his strong arms, his muscles showing through in the dimming, golden light. He began to roll his hips into him, slowly, relishing in the feeling.

Jinyoung drew him close so that their bodies were flush. He kissed him hard, feeling the creasing of his brows and pulling at his lips with his teeth. He could feel every movement of Mark. The way his body seemed to release him before greedily taking him in again. The way his legs felt loose and open and intertwined with Mark’s. His hips desperate to be closer. The way he was already feeling hard again against the smooth skin of Mark’s abs, savoring every bit of friction his skin offered.

Mark picked up his speed, moving against him with finesse. His inhales grew shorter and his exhales grew longer. He was noisy, groaning with every roll of his hips. Ruthless and in control. But Jinyoung could read his face like the back of his hand, seeing exactly how he was rising.

“There he is,” Jinyoung put his hands to his face, gripping his chin. Feeling the layer of salt and sweat that coated him. “There’s my beautiful boy,” he soothed.

Mark moaned, not slowing down. Unable to look away from Jinyoung’s face.

Jinyoung smiled, sweeping a piece of hair out of his face. “Can he be good for me?” His voice soft despite the jolting with every thrust. “Can he come hard in me?”

Mark only groaned in response, his brows knitting together as he released hard, gasping and stilling. His arms going up to box Jinyoung against the wall, his head craning into his neck and kissing the skin on his shoulder. After a moment, Mark pulled away, looking down between them. “God, you’re hard,” Mark whined. He ran a hand over him.

Jinyoung gasped, not realizing how sensitive he still was. How much he had left in him.

“What do you want?” Mark asked. “Whatever you want.”

Jinyoung let himself sink down the wall as he found his footing again. He looked up into Mark’s eyes. Dark and heavy. “Your throat.”

Mark bit his lip. He grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the bed. He laid himself down, reaching down for Jinyoung’s hips and hoisting him over.

Jinyoung straddled Mark’s chest, a knee on either side of his shoulders. He sat up on his knees, his arms falling against the headboard. He looked down, seeing Mark’s hands wrapping around his thighs with bruising strength. His mouth open and his eyes dark. Jinyoung guided himself into his mouth, feeling that slick of his tongue again.

Jinyoung thrust slowly at first, feeling the groan low in Mark’s throat as it shook through him. But as he felt like Mark was contented, he sharpened his rhythm, fucking into his mouth. Letting his head roll back and a moan leave his lips. Unsure how something so simple as his mouth could feel so good.

As the feeling in the pit of his stomach grew, Jinyoung was struggling to hold himself up. Then he looked down and saw Mark’s mouth wide. Saw the way he was slipping down his throat. Saw the way Mark was making it look so easy. And that made it even harder to hold on, his knuckles going white against the headboard.

Mark flattened his tongue so that every movement felt like a deep, deliberate sweep against the soft slickness. And it was only a couple more thrusts before Jinyoung was coming undone again. He released a deafening groan, folding over and releasing another full load into Mark’s mouth and slumping to one side.

He tried to catch his breath, splaying himself against the bed. His nerves completely shot this time. Mark curled into his side. Jinyoung heard him swallow the last of his seed, reaching out to swipe his thumb against the boy’s lips to clean up the remnants.

He saw his face, warm and beautiful, before looking over his shoulder. He turned Mark away from him, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around his front. Their arms crossing and fingers entangling. Their bodies drawn together into the same long line. He nuzzled into the space between Mark’s shoulder and his ear. Together, they looked out towards the ocean and saw the water was calm and sparkling with vivid oranges and purples in the twilight.

Jinyoung murmured into Mark’s ear, “You’re the tides, you’re the waves, you’re the shore.”

Mark’s shoulder drew up ticklish. A giggle escaping his lips.

“You’re the sunrise and the sunset and everything in between,” he pressed his lips against the space behind his ear, kissing him softly.

“The whole ocean, right?” he beckoned towards it. His voice was warm and soft and smiling. “That’s what we are?”

Jinyoung nodded against his skin. “The whole ocean.”


	7. Epilogue

**Five years later.**

Jinyoung pulled up in his car. The gravel driveway gritting under his tires, jostling the frame slightly. As he looked around, the mountains were all around him. Distant and misty and endlessly rolling. In them, they held something. A nostalgia that he couldn’t put into words. It made his breaths deeper. His chest lighter. A feeling that the dry, arid hills of California never offered. And he had forgotten how much he missed it.

He looked upon the house. Two stories towering, a strong swatch of white that stuck out clearly amongst the endless green. It was just the perfect mix of traditional and modern. A warm timber deck wrapping around. The roof and frame reminiscent of a modern hanok. Long warm beams angled upward, casting shadows against the white exterior. The sun was starting to set, leaving the white golden and shimmering. It was better than he could ever imagine.

He turned off the car, getting out and slamming the door a bit too hard. The air was humid and warm, in preparation for summer. It only deepened that feeling in his lungs. The swell of his heart. Realizing only now how much he had wanted this moment. How he’d been yearning for it since before he could even remember.

A voice called from ahead. “I thought I heard you pull up,” they shouted. Strong and familiar. Jinyoung looked up and saw a warm face calling to him from the deck. “Come on,” they waved him closer.

Jinyoung pushed up the arms of his sweater and followed the stone walkway. As he came up to the porch, the door opened. Jaebeom smiled. Still the picture of home that Jinyoung kept coming back to. They looked at each other. Soaking in the moment. Knowing that it was the only one like it they would ever have. Mutually straining to commit it to memory.

“So,” Jaebeom broke the silence. “The momentous return of Park Jinyoung. After five years away, he’s finally come to settle back in his home country.”

Jinyoung shrugged. “To be fair, my alma mater didn’t give me the highest offer,” he tilted his head. “But they sure gave me the one closest to you.” He let his smile break.

He watched Jaebeom’s mirror his.

They wrapped their arms around each other. Jinyoung’s cheek against his broad shoulder, taking in the feeling. Amazed that someone can change so much yet still feel exactly the same. Knowing Jaebeom felt the same way about him.

“Well,” Jaebeom pulled away. “I can tell you Korea feels that much better knowing you’re in it,” he smiled. He waved him in. “Let me show you around.”

Jinyoung came in, looking up around him. The ceilings were high and vaulted. Expanses of white against light wood banisters and floors. The golden hour painting shadows against the walls. Feeling just as warm and broad as Jaebeom.

“The house is finally finished after two long years,” Jaebeom clapped, walking with a certain pride. “I managed to do about seventy percent of it. And fuck up the rest of it so bad that we had to get a contractor for the last six months. Turns out plumbing isn’t my strong suit.”

Jaebeom showed him to the living room, its cushy ivory couches were enough seating for a dozen. A fireplace towered over. It was just as uncluttered as Jinyoung remembered him living. Wide windows opened up towards the back of the house and framed the view of the mountains. They seemed to roll on forever. As if no one else in the world existed outside of this home.

Next was the kitchen. Big and open with an island in the center for gathering. Jaebeom talked about how delivery didn’t reach this far out of the city, so he cooked every night. Talking about the garden he was building out back. All the vegetables he was planning on harvesting by the end of summer.

They came upon a door down the hall. “Oh,” Jaebeom smiled, rubbing his hands together. “My favorite part.” He pushed open the door and Jinyoung followed him in, letting the door swing shut behind them. The room fell pitch black but after a moment, Jinyoung’s eyes began to adjust. The dim red glow surrounded them. The heavy scent of chemicals in the air filled his nose. He instantly knew.

“Your own dark room,” Jinyoung laughed. “I always thought you were crazy when you talked about building this.” He walked around the small space, seeing the trays of chemicals and the lines of wire strung over them. He looked up at racks of photos drying, the sound of dripping faint in his ears.

He looked into the photos. A tangle of white sheets, bare shoulders, a bright face with a laugh stitched between its teeth. The photo as alive and vibrant as it’s subject. Jinyoung smiled as he could nearly hear the laugh in his ears, loud and bright and earnest.

“Where’s your other half?” Jinyoung asked as he studied the series.

There was a smile in Jaebeom’s voice that Jinyoung didn’t have to turn and see. “Youngjae was closing up the music store and then doing a pickup. He should be home soon.”

“Mm,” Jinyoung hummed, looking back towards him for a moment. “How’s the store?”

“It’s going well. We are two years in now?” Jaebeom thought out loud. “Youngjae is getting quite a clientele with his lessons. We have people driving in as far the coast to see him. And he’s expanding into music therapy now. Visiting hospitals. Working with refugees. It’s exciting for him.”

“And you?” Jinyoung asked, tilting his head. “Do you ever regret leaving accounting?”

Jaebeom looked down, crossing his arms over his chest and letting go of a true laugh. “Never,” he shook his head. “A heartless business. Running the store, doing repairs, helping Youngjae. That’s where I’m most happy.”

Jinyoung looked to the other photos, seeing Youngjae’s same bright face framed by two others, their smiles rivaling each other. Hugged close and low. Peace signs near eyes. Butterfly nets and glass jars in hand. The green of the mountains in the background. Wildflowers snaking up the cliffside.

As if called, he distantly heard rumbling. Hard and fast and growing louder. He looked over to Jaebeom.

Jaebeom looked around, a smile spreading across his cheeks. “They’re home,” he singsonged, going to get the door.

Jinyoung had to squint his eyes when Jaebeom reintroduced the golden light of the hallway. He looked down the long hall toward the source of the noise. He heard it moving over the wood floors, getting closer. Felt the vibrations under his feet deepen. Finally, able to distinguish two sets of feet at full speed.

“Daddy!” they called turning the corner and rushing towards Jaebeom. He squatted down, catching them and hugging them close. He picked them up with ease, fitting each on one hip.

They were dressed in coordinated outfits. Hair clips and blunt bangs and backpacks still on. Small, toothy grins spread wide and a chorus of giggles and squeals falling from them. They looked to Jaebeom like he was their whole world and Jinyoung knew the feeling.

“Girls,” he called, turning between them. “You remember Uncle Jinyoung? You saw him last Christmas?”

The two faces looked back at him. Mirrors of each other. Quieting now as they remembered.

“We remember,” they said, nearly in unison.

“He played King Sejong in our play we wrote,” one peeped.

“And he wouldn’t take the mustache off all night,” the other added.

“Of course,” Jinyoung gasped, smiling at them. “I took my role very seriously.”

“Hyung!” Jinyoung looked up, seeing Youngjae run up to him. The boy threw his bag to the side to wrap his arms tightly around him. “Oh my god,” he exclaimed, squeezing so tight he thought he might burst. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Jinyoung laughed, hugging him back. Feeling that signature energy coming off his best friend. Knowing that no matter how old Youngjae got or many kids he had, he’d still have the boyish charm that Jinyoung always loved him for. “I’m so happy to be here,” he pulled away. “The house looks amazing.”

Youngjae nodded, letting go of him. “Jaebeom did a great job. He really thought of everything,” he looked over to his husband, smiling wide.

“Everything for my everythings,” Jaebeom kissed the girls’ cheeks, watching them squeal and pull back from him until he let them go.

“Girls,” Youngjae said, squatting down towards them. “Go clean up and get ready for dinner.”

“What’s for dinner?” one asked.

“We’re grilling on the deck,” Jaebeom nodded. “And if you both are good, Daddy will let you flip the meat.”

Their eyes got wider.

“Go on,” Youngjae shooed them down the hall. “And don’t just throw your things on the floor. Put them where they go!”

They grabbed each other’s hands, running out of sight.

Youngjae took a breath, turning towards Jinyoung. “And you’re coming with me,” he smiled and grabbed his hand. He dragged him out to the deck where they had a small kitchen, a dining table, as well as a set of outdoor seating. He collapsed onto the couch and Jinyoung joined him. They looked out over the mountains, watching the sun descending towards the peaks.

“How is everything?” Jinyoung asked, his head against Youngjae’s shoulder.

“Busy,” Youngjae laughed. “Always busy.” He shook his head. “But I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You both seem happy,” Jinyoung smiled up at him.

“We are,” he nodded. He looked out at the view, sighing. “And it’s not always perfect,” he started. “There are days when we bicker. And we’re crunching numbers to figure out how to make it work. And the girls get fussy. And it’s so rainy that you can’t see the mountains.” He paused. Taking a breath. Collecting his thoughts. “But they are there. And so are we at the end of those days. And I am thankful for everyday that starts and ends with the four of us. You know?”

Jinyoung nodded. Feeling the lightness in his chest. “I do.”

Jaebeom cooked dinner, letting the girls take turns flipping the meat with their tongs. They all sat down at the dining table, watching the setting sun from the deck as they enjoyed their food. Jinyoung relished the taste of Jaebeom’s cooking.

After dinner, they went to the music room and Youngjae played piano while the girls sang their duet. Slow and calm, like a lullaby. Their graceful harmonies weaving in and out alongside each other. Filling the house with music. They held out the final note, their voices echoing off the high ceilings.

Jaebeom and Jinyoung clapped and cheered.

“That was amazing,” Jinyoung smiled.

They bowed, smiles small. Their eyes blinking and sleepy.

“Uh oh,” Jaebeom smirked. “I think it’s time for bed.”

The girls whined. “But we want to spend more time with Uncle Jinyoung.”

“Uncle Jinyoung lives in Korea now,” Jinyoung smiled, squatting in front of them. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of him.”

“Promise?” they both held out their pinkie fingers.

Jinyoung reached out with both hands, interlocking their fingers. “Promise.”

“Come on, girls,” Youngjae shooed them along.

Jinyoung followed Jaebeom back out onto the deck. He sat in one of the chairs, looking out over the view. The sunlight still glowing from beneath the mountain ridge, leaving an edge of electric blue that faded to a black starry sky.

“God,” Jinyoung shook his head. “They are so big now. How long has it been?”

Jaebeom poured Jinyoung a beer. “We signed the adoption papers…” Jaebeom thought, handing him glass. “A year and a half ago? They’ll be six in a few weeks.”

“You guys are doing so great with them,” Jinyoung looked over to him. “Truly.”

Jaebeom lounged against the couch, looking distant for a moment. He sipped his drink absentmindedly. “We couldn’t imagine waking up without them,” Jaebeom shrugged, his throat sounding slightly thick from more than just his drink. “We couldn’t imagine this house without them.”

Jinyoung felt like he was staring at the Jaebeom he always knew. From the middle school hallways to the person he was today. As if Jinyoung knew that this was the life the boy had always wanted for himself, before he even knew that he couldn’t give it to him.

“What about you?” Jaebeom waved away his emotions. “You planning on getting married? Or was I that bad a fiancé?”

Jinyoung slapped his arm hard.

Youngjae was walking back from inside, joining Jaebeom on the couch and leaning into his side. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s been long enough now. When are you going to do it?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “I don’t think we will,” he shrugged. “We respect people who do it. We see why they do. But it’s not for us.”

“What about kids?” Youngjae asked, nuzzling deeper into Jaebeom, until his husband was putting his arm around him.

“We talk about it,” Jinyoung smiled. “But there’s still a lot to do. We’re still in transition.”

“Well,” Jaebeom sighed. “You’re welcome to take the girls for a weekend whenever you have time. I’m sure they’d love to see the city with you. God knows we could use some quiet time every now and then.”

“We’d love that,” Jinyoung smiled.

Jinyoung finished his drink and told them he should probably start heading back before it gets too late. They walked him to the door. Lingering too long and talking too much, all of them savoring the interaction that always felt so fleeting when Jinyoung came to visit. Having to remind themselves that he was there to stay.

“Bye, hyung,” Youngjae hugged him tightly. “If I don’t see you at least once a month, I’ll probably die, so you better be coming around now that you live here. The guest bedroom is always ready for you.”

Jinyoung laughed. “I’ll make you regret those words.”

“Bye, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom wrapped his arms around him. Holding him there long enough to speak the unsaid words. That he was glad Jinyoung was here. That he was proud of him.

“Are you coming to the taping?” Jinyoung asked as he was pulling away.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jaebeom smiled, sliding an arm around Youngjae’s waist.

Jinyoung smiled back. “I’ll see you both then,” he said. “Have a great night.”

He walked the distance back to his car, starting it up and watching the speck of warm light shrink amidst the dark mountains in his rearview mirror.

\---

Jinyoung punched his code into the door, opening it wide. He walked into the apartment. It was dark and there were boxes piled in every direction. Still taped up with American postage. The new kitchen appliances were still covered in plastic. The remnants of a delivery meal left out messily on the island.

Jinyoung smiled. Knowing this is how it should always be.

He walked into the living room, where there wasn’t any furniture yet. Just vast and open and waiting to be filled with memories. He opened up the glass doors, walking out onto the balcony. The apartment towered over Seoul and from his place, Jinyoung could see the city lights like stars shining bright. They reflected in the Han River, glittering and dazzling. He could hear the hum of cars, the clacking of the subway where it crossed the river, a distant siren. The sound like a sweet melody in his ears. Knowing he was back where he was meant to be.

He didn’t know how long he stood like this, taking in the feeling before he felt hands snake over his chest. The press of warm skin against his back. A chin atop his shoulder.

“You’re back,” spoke the warm breath against his ear, making his neck flush. The scent of cinnamon candy filling his nose.

Jinyoung turned around, looking into Mark’s face. He was bare chested, bare footed, his pajama pants low and lopsided on his hips. His hair was messy and his eyes were bright despite their sleepiness.

He was older now. But so was Jinyoung. But if you had asked where it showed, Jinyoung couldn’t tell you. Because to him, every single inch of Mark was still exciting and new and waiting to be uncovered.

“You’re still up?” Jinyoung felt the smile pulling at his lips. “I thought your flight got in a few hours ago.”

Mark shrugged, his bare shoulders glinting in the light. “Jet lag.”

Jinyoung’s leaned back against the bannister, letting his hands slide over Mark’s sides to hold him close. “Jaebeom and Youngjae say hello,” he whispered into the crisp night air.

“Do they hate me for not making it tonight?” Mark’s eyebrows furrowed.

“No, no,” Jinyoung shook his head. “We’ll have plenty of opportunities in the future. Though the girls did ask where the funny foreign man was.”

“Did they bring up your King Sejong mustache?” Mark smiled.

“Shut up,” Jinyoung laughed, reaching for his hips and drawing him closer. Leaning in and kissing him. And he was certain it felt different this time. Sure, they’d kissed thousands of times in this city. But knowing it wasn’t temporary fleeting place. A place between places. Knowing it was now their home together. That felt important.

So he made sure it was right, letting his hands smooth over Mark’s bare skin. Giving just enough pressure against his lips for him to feel the meaning behind it.

And it must have worked because when Mark pulled back, leaning their foreheads together, he whispered a warm and smiling, “I know” that had Jinyoung feeling lightheaded. “Come on,” Mark took his hand, interlacing their fingers. He dragged him back inside, up the staircase to their loft bedroom. It was empty aside from a mat on the floor and a few blankets spread across it, still messy from how Jinyoung had left it this morning.

Mark laid down, pulling Jinyoung over him. And long after their clothes had been discarded. Long after their breaths had been spent thrusting hips into each other. Long after their moans had become soundwaves that absorbed into their walls for the last, first time. Long after all the pomp and circumstance of christening their new living space, however desperate it was on a mat surrounded by unpacked boxes, Jinyoung laid his head and his hand against Mark’s chest. He felt his heartbeat steadying back down to resting, his breaths evening. And Jinyoung swore that as long as he could hear this, no evil could reach him.

“We are here,” Jinyoung murmured into the darkness, into an endless plane of bare skin. “We’re in Seoul. Ready to make it our city.”

Mark’s voice was thick with a smile, reaching down and clutching the hand against his chest. “It was always our city.”

\---

“You ready?” Mark asked as they walked down the main road. The late spring breeze tangling between them as their shoulders brushed.

Jinyoung scoffed. “I don’t know. I haven’t been to a club since…” he thought. “God, since I was still with Jaebeom.”

Mark laughed. “Well, this isn’t just any club,” he offered. “This is Yugyeom’s club. It’s supposed to be the hippest place this side of the river. He was telling me about all the celebrities he’s had come in the past few months. I literally can’t believe this is the same kid who couldn’t go to sleep without a nightlight.”

“Well, I always saw his potential,” Jinyoung smiled. “For anything other than literature.”

Mark laughed as they walked up, showing their IDs to the bouncer and walking in.

The club was different than Jinyoung expected. Bright and lit up with vivid pinks and blues and greens. The walls were decorated with bright murals, cartoon chaos, morsels of street mixing with retro vibes. On the main floor, there was a stage where dancers were hyping up the crowd, threatening to battle against each other. The crowd was watching eagerly, cheering them on over the booming music.

Mark checked them in at the entrance to the VIP section. “I’m an old friend of the owner,” he mentioned, taking obvious pride in it.

The staff ushered them through and both of them climbed the stairs to the upper floor. From the balcony, you could see the stage clearly and the mess of bodies, swaying in time with the rhythm as the performers began to compete. Huddled in the seating area, talking closely, seemingly oblivious to the action below, were Yugyeom, Bambam, and Jackson.

Bambam was the first to notice them walk up. “Mark!” Bam rushed forward, wrapping his arms around his friend. Yugyeom jumped up, joining in until the trio were jumping up and down together. “You’re here!” they shouted. “You’re here to stay!”

Jinyoung was busy laughing at them when a high voice cut through the music. “Jinyoungie!” he felt himself being nearly tackled.

He looked back up and saw the wide smiling face staring back at him. “Jackson,” he laughed.

“God,” he scoffed, holding his face closely in his hands. “You look so tan. I give you three months before you’re back to your Korean actor shade 21.”

“You don’t change, do you?” Jinyoung smiled.

“Why would I?” Jackson shrugged. “Mark,” he called. “My favorite homewrecker. Come hug me.”

Mark smirked, holding back a laugh before putting an arm around him. “Missed you too, Jackson.” He shook his head. “Sorry, we’re late,” Mark rushed to tell the group. “I just signed the lease for the office. The space is beautiful. I can’t wait for you guys to see it.”

“Remind me again,” Jackson spoke up. “What kind of law will the firm specialize in?”

“Labor and employment. We are the first firm in Seoul that is solely dedicated to protecting the rights of foreign employees,” Mark’s voice was full of pride and Jinyoung couldn’t help but admire it.

“Wow. You guys didn’t just move back to Seoul,” Jackson laughed. “You’re taking it back with a vengeance. Speaking of,” Jackson looked between them. “Did you see Jaebeom yet? Is he coming back into the city any time soon?”

“He’ll be here tomorrow for the taping,” Jinyoung noted. “Do you miss him?”

“Ugh,” Jackson scoffed. “I’ve been trying to get him to invest with me on some new deals but he’s so over anything business related. He’s too busy ruling from his countryside palace.”

Jinyoung shrugged, “A family will shift your priorities.”

Jackson huffed, “Well my divorce went through last month, but business is booming so who am I to discuss priorities!”

Yugyeom butted in. “Maybe eloping with some English teacher you only knew for a few weeks and not telling anyone was a bit riskier of an investment. Even for you.” He hissed through his teeth as his mouth drew up in a smirk.

“Hey,” Jackson shrugged, not taking offense. “You lose all the shots you don’t take.”

Bam huffed a laugh, shaking his head, “I don’t think that applies to marriage, bro.”

“Well,” Jinyoung shifted the subject. “The place looks great, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung looked around.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Yugyeom smiled, tipping a drink towards him. “If you hadn’t introduced me to Jackson, I would have never had the investor I needed to make it happen.”

“To Park Jinyoung!” Bam raised his glass and the others cheered. “The man of the hour.” Bam clasped him on the back. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Jinyoung let go of a nervous laugh, feeling his stomach turn. “Go easy on me, Bammie,” he raised a hand. “I’m still new to this whole thing.”

Bam scoffed. “You’ll do great.”

“Nothing too personal,” Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need everyone knowing about everything.”

“Jinyoung, please,” Bam put a hand to his chest. “I’m a professional. I know you’ve been away for a few years but, here, I’m the biggest name in talk shows. Trust that I know where not to press you on personal matters.”

Jinyoung relented. “Speaking of, when are you and Yugyeom going to just come out as a couple?” he crossed his arms over his chest, licking his lips. “My sister said the tabloids won’t shut up about you two.”

Bambam shrugged, a smirk pulling up the side of his mouth. “What’s the fun in everyone knowing?”

“Don’t bother, Jinyoung,” Mark shook his head. “You know they love the game.”

“Speaking of games,” Jackson smiled. “Let’s get you both drinks.”

“Only one drink for Jinyoung,” Bambam held up a finger. “He’s got an important day tomorrow. I don’t like my guests hungover.”

Jinyoung grinned, feeling Mark’s arms wrapping around his side. “One drink then,” he agreed.

\---

“You look good,” Mark said, sliding his hands over the lapels of Jinyoung’s jacket. “Is this the suit I picked out?”

Jinyoung nodded. His eyes focusing on Mark’s, trying to still himself in his sureness.

Mark smiled back at him, a flash of white teeth. “You’re nervous.”

“A little,” Jinyoung murmured, knotting his hands together.

“Come here,” Mark’s arms came around him, drawing him close. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered into his hair. “And I’ll be right here.”

Jinyoung felt himself melting into Mark’s embrace. He took a deep breath, knowing that as long as Mark was here, he was okay. Knowing that Mark was the whole point of this.

“Sorry,” a staff member interrupted them. “We are going to get started if you’re ready.”

Jinyoung pulled back, he looked into Mark’s eyes, communicating slight panic.

“You got this,” Mark nodded. “Go.”

Jinyoung swallowed, taking a deep breath and following the staff onto the stage. He took a seat on the couch, sitting opposite Bambam as a stylist sprayed his hair into place.

“Go, Jinyoung!” he heard a shout from the crowd and his eyes followed. Youngjae was howling for him, Jaebeom at his side. Jackson and Yugyeom sat next to them. Their faces bright and open and encouraging from the front row of reserved seats.

“We ready?” the producer called. The live audience quieting their chatter.

“Yup,” Bambam called out as the stylist sprinted off. He turned to Jinyoung, leaning forward in his chair. “Are you ready, Dr. Park?”

Jinyoung smiled, still not used to the new honorific. He looked over to Mark, slightly behind the shoulder of a cameraman. His arms crossed over his chest. His face calm and smiling and proud. He felt himself take in a final breath. “I’m ready.”

The producer counted down on her fingers. Three… two… one.

“Welcome back,” Bambam smiled at the camera. “Our next guest is an academic and, now, author who is releasing the Korean edition of his novel _Your Ocean Waves Don’t Crash For Me_ this week. Making his first Korean television appearance, help me in welcoming my dear friend, Dr. Park Jinyoung.”

The studio audience cheered and clapped, the camera panning to their smiling faces.

Jinyoung bowed slightly, feeling everything rush and then quiet as the audience died down.

Bambam turned towards him. “Dr. Park. How are you?”

Jinyoung took a quick breath, quieting his nervous energy. He nodded. “I’m good. I’m glad to be back.”

“That’s right,” he noted. “You just moved back to Korea after finishing your Ph. D. in America. Right?”

“Yes. I graduated a few weeks ago and I was offered a tenured position at my alma mater here in Seoul. So, I thought this was the best time to return and start building my life here.”

“Wow. So busy,” Bam gasped. “How did you manage to balance finishing the novel and your doctorate?”

Jinyoung crossed his legs, thinking for a moment. “I guess the inspiration just came naturally to me. It didn’t feel like work. It was a very reflective and healing experience.”

Bambam nodded before narrowing his eyes. “And you’ve decided to release this book in English and Korean. And you were the one to translate it. Why was that particularly important to you?”

Jinyoung nodded. “Korean was always the primary language the story was told in,” Jinyoung explained. “The story takes place in Seoul. It’s very much a love letter to the city,” he considered his words. “But it’s also a story that takes place between two cultures that sometimes conflict. Also telling the story in English felt like a way to honor that aspect of the story.”

“That’s amazing,” Bambam furrowed his brows. He motioned toward the audience and the cameras, “And for those at home who may not know about the book yet, what can you tell them about it? What were you trying to accomplish when writing this novel?”

“Well,” Jinyoung thought, his thumbs twiddling together in his lap. “At it’s a heart, it’s two things; a coming of age story and a love story. The main character is growing into himself and learning how to shoulder his fears and his self-doubt. But it’s not growth with no objective. It’s about growing into the person your soulmate needs you to be.”

“Beautifully said,” Bam nodded. “And the title, it’s so beautiful as well. _Your Ocean Waves Don’t Crash For Me._ Where did that line originate from?”

Jinyoung felt the energy race through him. His eyes flicked over before looking down to his lap momentarily. “It was actually written by my favorite amateur poet,” he felt momentarily at his neck as the heat accumulated there. “I just felt like it perfectly captured this feeling of realizing that something isn’t yours. No matter how entitled you feel to it.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

Jinyoung licked his lips. “I think when we, as people, feel something very strongly, it’s very simple for us to claim ownership over it. Whether that thing is a city, a song, a memory, or another person. Whether that feeling is love or resentment or jealousy or anger. But this story is largely about realizing how flawed that is. And only when we become conscious of those feelings, and work past them, do we become truly worthy of having the thing that makes us feel so strongly.”

“I’m going to have to keep thinking that over,” Bambam laughed and the audience followed suit. He let them die down before speaking again. “And you said the inspiration came easy. Can you speak more on that?” Bambam’s eyebrows raised, one slightly above the other. Just enough that Jinyoung knew he was playing at something.

Jinyoung felt himself draw in a breath. He looked out into the audience. He saw a front row of familiar faces. Jackson, Yugyeom, Youngjae, Jaebeom. Their eyes hanging on every word. He looked back towards the cameraman, his eyes shifting over his shoulder.

The corner of Mark’s mouth was turning up slightly, leaving Jinyoung with flashes of his white smile. His hair was mused away from his face and he looked relaxed in his tattered jeans and sweater. Almost a far cry from the passionate lawyer who he was watching open up his own firm. Instead, more like the skater boy in Jinyoung’s office doorway. The smart and honest and kind and vivid boy he’d always be in Jinyoung’s eyes. The studio lights were casting shadows over his face but they couldn’t outshine him.

Jinyoung took in a breath before speaking. “The inspiration for this book was right in front of me the whole time,” he didn’t break away from Mark’s bright stare. He felt the swelling and crashing in his chest like a wild wave that never tempered.

“I just couldn’t put into words until now.”

There are some people who come into your life and it’s like they were never meant to leave. That’s how Mark was for Jinyoung. Every possible future, every daydream was painted with Mark in it. The accomplishments, the shortcomings, and seemingly every small moment between. And though they had lost sight of the shore long ago, they never took their eyes off new horizons. Because both of them knew that there was no satisfaction in crossing oceans if there wasn’t someone to share it with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank every single person who read, gave kudos, commented, made memes about this story, etc. You truly gave me such great feedback and I couldn’t have done this without you all inspiring me to continue. At the end of the day, the most important things is that you connected with these characters that were my company when times were hard for me. This story will likely always be the most personal one I’ve ever written and, because of that, the most rewarding. So thank you for all the support and I hope you walk away with a lesson or a new perspective that you didn’t have before. Love y’all! 
> 
> Also I do plan on doing a few one shot stories from this series that weren't covered by Jinyoung's perspective. I have completed the 2jae companions story, It's High Time That You Love Me, so go check that out! Let me know if there are any other scenes that you would love to see that you didn't get to here! Keep checking back for those!
> 
> Thank you so much and let me know below what you thought of the ending!
> 
> I have created a **Author's Commentary Edition** that has a lot of behind the scenes info! Spoiler heavy so don't share with those who haven't finished yet!  
> [You can access it here.](https://docs.google.com/document/d/17Z0ONrOzIK1Y9KLCDEl8mGCgLtzaDwAZa4K5CaJmM_k/edit?usp=sharingg)
> 
> Also, come yell at me on Twitter: [@oceans4jinyoung](https://twitter.com/oceans4jinyoung)  
> 


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